


In Discordant Equilibrium

by Aqualisier



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: ...mostly, Alcohol, Angst, Aromantic Character, Banter, Begging, Black Romance, Bloodplay, Character Study, Choking, Drama, Enemies With Benefits, Hate Sex, Humor, Infidelity, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Obsession, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Overstimulation, Porn With Plot, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Power Play, Relationship Study, Sadism, Self-Destructive Behavior, Tail Bondage, Tail Sex, Violent Sex, War Crimes, Xeno, and a body count, enemies to lovers?, frieza is a legit fascinating character especially DBS onward and in this essay I, from which children are not exempt, goku's midlife crisis, nobody ever told goku what infidelity is. this has consequences, not a darkfic but it gets intense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:20:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 50,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26918002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aqualisier/pseuds/Aqualisier
Summary: Post-DBS. Frieza learns that Goku has a weakness he wasn't expecting. Goku is offered a way to alleviate his boredom. They both get way more than they bargained for.
Relationships: Frieza/Son Goku (Dragon Ball)
Comments: 102
Kudos: 74





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've been wanting to write something like this for a while, but held off because Goku/Frieza is a relatively niche pairing and I knew it would be quite the ordeal to type up. But you know what? It's 2020, the world is on fire, and I'm going to write the gay alien porn epic of my dreams. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!

The situation was this.

After the longest, most bullshit forty-eight minutes of everybody's lives, the Tournament of Power was finally over. Android 17 claimed an unexpected victory, and used his wish upon the Super Dragon Balls to restore the seven erased universes. With that, everybody returned to Earth in high spirits to greet the coming dawn. It was an unambiguously happy ending.

Except for one problem: Frieza.

Specifically, his complete revival. Not because of any far-reaching or long-term consequences, or the ethical dilemma of granting a genocidal tyrant a second (well, third or fourth, really) chance at life as a mere reward for good behavior. A reward he had earned, certainly, but perhaps not one he deserved in the first place. Was it morally just to uphold the promise Goku had made and let him live, or plunge him straight back into Hell to prevent further evil? That was neither here nor there.

No, Frieza being alive posed a far simpler problem: for the time being, he was stuck on Earth.

And nobody was happy about this.

Mere minutes after arriving back at Capsule Corp, Frieza cleared his throat to attract Whis's attention. "So, ah… seeing as how I've been revived, I assume you'll be escorting me back to the seat of my empire now?"

And Whis.

The _absolute fucker._

Just _laughed_.

"Oh, Frieza, why such a hurry? Lord Beerus and I aren't going anywhere. At least, not until we've had a chance to properly celebrate our universe's victory!"

Whis laughed again, lilting and smug, and a collective look of horror dawned on everyone's faces—Frieza included—as the implication of Whis's words set in.

Eventually, his laughter trailed off, and he smiled. "We'll drop you off on the way back."

And that was that. Their fates were sealed. Frieza was forced to party with his foes, and there wasn't a damn thing anyone could do about it.

Vegeta pushed his way to the front of the group. "You cannot be serious, Whis!" he yelled. "I will not stand for having Frieza on this planet a second longer, let alone in my house!"

"Settle down, Vegeta," said Whis. "Lord Beerus and I will be here to make sure he behaves himself. Besides, it'll only be for a short while."

"THAT'S NOT THE POINT!"

The pre-dinner entertainment continued for several minutes. Vegeta pushed with increasing irritation against the placidly amused Whis, accompanied by the occasional interjection from Beerus, as everybody else stood in wide-eyed, awkward silence. Neither of them were budging until properly fed.

Eventually, Bulma shot to her feet. "I'll get the food," she said, then added, "And the booze…"

* * *

The prevailing hope had been that Whis and Beerus would be satisfied after a round of food and drinks, strap Frieza into the metaphorical cosmic baby carrier, and be on their merry way. Unfortunately, it turned out that they were very, very hungry, and the afterparty-turned-existential-nightmare overstayed its already tenuous welcome. The lucky ones found excuses to leave. Gohan and Piccolo had a baby to look after, and Roshi's old bones couldn't handle an all-nighter of fighting and partying like they used to. The rest were stuck there.

Frieza sat off in a corner, well away from the festivities, almost wishing to be back in Hell just to be free of this unfathomably awkward situation. Vegeta refused to budge an inch—not while it meant leaving Frieza unsupervised in the same house as his newborn daughter. As impressive as his stink-eye was, and as tempted as Frieza was to mock how far he'd fallen to be living on a backwater planet like this, quite frankly he hated being stuck in Vegeta's home just as much as Vegeta hated having him there. In any case, the stand-off only lasted until he and Goku got into a squabble, which devolved into a drinking contest, ending in Goku shitfaced and Vegeta passed out cold. Frieza snorted at the predictable outcome. Vegeta never had been able to hold his liquor.

It wasn't all bad, though. Despite lacking any appetite, the food was quite good, and so was the wine—like hell he was getting through this sober.

And there was, at least, one person he genuinely didn't mind being forced to hang out with.

"No, no, nobody uses Space Skype anymore," said Android 17. "We all switched to Space Discord while you were dead. It's so much better, you wouldn't even believe it. You should make one, I'll add you there instea—"

A loud sob brought the conversation to a halt.

"I can't believe nobody even thought to invite me to the tournament!" cried Yamcha, who was also there for some reason, drowning his sorrows and bawling his eyes out. "This whole time I was waiting on you guys, and not one person thought to invite me! It's like… it's like my entire life is just one big joke!"

Krillin patted him on the back with a sympathetic smile. "That's not true, Yamcha! That's just the alcohol talking! You're our friend, and we care about you! We just already had a full roster!" Not… entirely true, but considering how crucial a role Frieza had played in their victory, it didn't seem right to split hairs over it.

Yamcha sucked an unattractive wad of snot back into his nose. "I just feel so pathetic and unappreciated… I'm forty-seven years old and don't even have a girlfriend! Tell me, Krillin, am I ugly?"

"Of course you're not!" said Krillin. "I mean, I don't swing that way myself, but you're a very attractive man, and I know there's someone out there for you! You shouldn't be putting stock into anything superficial like that, anyway. It's not about looks, it's about—"

"Please don't say, 'what's on the inside'…"

The corner of Krillin's lip twitched into a smirk. "Actually, I, uh… was gonna say 'technique.' How do you think a guy like me was able to land a girl like 18?"

Yamcha sniffled. "W-What do you mean?"

"Aha. I don't mean to brag, but let's just say that when you're my size, you have to find ways to compensate for… certain deficiencies, if you know what I mean." He winked.

Bulma snorted from across the table, face flushed from alcohol. "Oh, so you eat your girl out. Big deal. That's not a sex tip, that's a basic standard of decency. Do you guys wanna hear how Vegeta won _me_ over?"

Yamcha planted his head on the table, and groaned. "Please, no."

"Well, I'll be merciful and spare you the details." With a laugh, she downed another shot of rum. "We switch roles nowadays, but in the beginning, it turned out he just wanted to be dommed, if you can believe it! People always say the man has to be the dominant, aggressive one, but no. It's all about communication, and knowing what your partner is into."

Vegeta snored loudly from under the table.

Bulma turned to Krillin, grin widening. "So, have you and 18 ever done anything _actually_ interesting?"

Krillin blushed. "U-Um, well…"

"Krillin's into pegging, I'm into light-medium bondage, but I don't mind being top or bottom." 18's tone was nonchalant. She leaned against the balcony railing, and took another drag of her cigarette. "We experiment with new kinks and positions every now and then, but now that we're married with jobs and a daughter we aren't as sexually active as we used to be. Craziest thing we ever tried was petplay, but we couldn't get into it."

Krillin's face grew redder and redder with each successive word, until he was a sputtering tomato, face buried in his hands.

17 whistled. "Not bad, not bad! My wife's pretty vanilla, but she likes having sex in weird places. We're proud members of the mile high club."

"But… 17." 18 stared at him. "You can fly. Why were you on a plane in the first place? Did you really buy a plane ticket _just_ for plane sex? That's so financially irresponsible!"

He shrugged. "Don't kinkshame, sis."

Frieza, unfortunately, was still present, mind struggling to process what the actual fuck he was being forced to listen to. He had no desire whatsoever to learn about the details of Goku's friends' sex lives. Though not at all shy about the topic of sex, he really did not want to think about this particular group of people in that way. And now he would never be able to scrub away the mental images. Wonderful. He glowered, and poured himself another glass of wine, suddenly feeling deeply envious of Vegeta.

Apparently, he wasn't the only one more than a little uncomfortable with this line of conversation. Tenshinhan, when questioned about the particulars of his relationship with some woman named Launch, turned beet red and flew away, fast, without saying a single word.

Bulma pouted. "Damn, and here I was actually curious. We haven't heard from Launch in so long, y'know?" Speech slurring ever so slightly, she turned to Whis. "What about you? You've been around a while. I'm sure you've got some interesting stories to tell!"

Whis flushed, touching a hand to his cheek. "Oh my, I suppose you could say that. Well, I'm not one to kiss and tell, but I suppose you could consider me something of a… hm, what's the phrase… ah, yes! A pussy destroyer."

Beerus choked, spit-taking dramatically and squawking like a dying parrot. Unable to form coherent words, he instead threw his drink at Whis, who dodged it expertly, shoveling forkfuls of salad into his mouth and laughing all the while.

Yamcha's jaw dropped. "I knew it! Krillin, you owe me two thousand zeni."

"ANYWAY! ENOUGH OF THAT!" cried Beerus, still a very conspicuous shade of red. He cleared his throat. "Moving on! Goku, you've been quiet this entire time! Tell us what you and your wife get up to!"

Goku looked up, reddened cheeks stuffed with food, blinking in confusion. He let out a muffled laugh, but swallowed before answering. "Wait, what are we talking about?"

"We're discussing our sex lives, Goku," said Whis, smiling.

Frieza looked up. He couldn't help being slightly curious, where the topic of Goku was concerned. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Bulma pouring herself another shot of rum, muttering something about how depressed she was on Chi-Chi's behalf.

"Huh? Sex?" said Goku. "I mean, yeah, I've had sex. After we got married, Chi-Chi wanted kids, and she explained what to do. Then when she wanted Goten we did it again. Not sure what's so interesting about that, though?"

Everybody, Frieza included, stared at Goku in stunned silence.

Yamcha spoke up. "You know, suddenly I feel a lot better about my life."

"Wait, seriously?" said Krillin. "Goku, you've really only had sex two times in your entire life?"

"Um, yeah?" He scratched the back of his head. "Two kids is plenty."

"That's not even the worst of it," Bulma muttered, slouched on her elbow. "Apparently, he's never even kissed his wife. Or _anyone._ Vegeta was on the verge of having an aneurysm when he told me. Honestly, I have no idea how they managed to get it on in the first place."

Frieza's fork clattered to his plate. Wait, Goku had never… _what?!_

"That again?" said Goku. "C'mon, Bulma, it's kind of a weird thing to do, isn't it? I don't see why everyone keeps making such a big deal out of it."

This really put his worst adversary in a whole new light.

Yes, Goku was a naïve fool, but this was bordering on comically absurd. Admittedly, Frieza knew nothing about Goku's wife, but how had he been able to keep a wife long enough to rear a child to adulthood without kissing her even once? Moreover, how had she and apparently everyone else _let_ Goku (who, despite their animosity, Frieza took no shame in acknowledging was objectively quite the hunk) go without being smooched for all his forty-some years?!

It made no sense. It was just so, so stupid. He would not accept this reality—that this was the man who defeated him. He couldn't.

And this was something Frieza could hold over him for the rest of his life.

So he stood up, marched over to Goku, yanked him by the collar, and smashed their lips together. Right there in front of everyone. With as many witnesses as possible. He heard the distinct sound of someone choking on their drink.

The kiss tasted like alcohol. Frieza kept his eyes open to savor Goku's look of absolute bewilderment. After several seconds, he broke away, and looked down on Goku's confused, sputtering, idiot face with deep, smug satisfaction. The weight of everyone's flabbergasted stares bored into them. _Good_.

Frieza licked his lips with a devilish smile. "Well?"

Goku snapped out of his daze. He blinked a few times, mouth falling open… and then the surprise and alcohol must have caught up to him all at once, because he then proceeded to keel over backwards, knocking his chair over, snoring the moment he hit the ground. Frieza curled his lip in disgust, but nevertheless turned to the stunned partygoers with a bow, grimace composed to a smirk. Whis broke the silence with a golf clap.

"More wine, please," said Frieza, holding out his empty glass. "I do believe our dear Son Goku's first kiss is cause for celebration."

(There was a silent, mutual understanding that nobody would tell Vegeta about this.)


	2. Chapter 2

After Whis let him leave and he had a chance to sober up, it occurred to Frieza that kissing his worst enemy was a really weird thing to do.

Not that it was at the forefront of his mind. He had things to do, an empire to rebuild from ashes. As amusing as that petty victory was, he still sought proper revenge. Fighting alongside Goku changed nothing. They were still bitter foes, even if he could now stand to be in the Saiyan's presence for more than five consecutive seconds without wanting to jam knives into his own eyeballs. He could put revenge on the backburner for the time being to focus on piecing his life back together.

The fact that he finally had _something_ over Goku, insignificant as it was, helped too.

It wasn't until the incident with Broly that they crossed paths again, albeit briefly. And Goku… greeted him casually, even asked for a _vocabulary lesson_ , as if nothing weird had happened between them. Frieza stared at him, utterly aghast, and realized that he'd probably forgotten the events of the afterparty entirely.

Well. Goku had been pretty drunk, so it really shouldn't have come as a surprise. But _still_.

The whole point of snogging Goku had been to hold a petty victory over him, to take something that couldn't be replaced. That, and the whole conversation about Goku never having kissed anyone was unbelievably stupid. No better way to rectify that than to do the deed himself. He'd also just been pretty drunk himself. But if Goku didn't remember, then that defeated the purpose, witnesses or no. If anything, it put Frieza on the losing end, because now _he_ was the only one stuck with the memory of locking lips with his worst enemy, with nothing to show for it.

The more he thought about it, the more it irritated him. The more he thought about it, the more he wanted that edge back over Goku.

But why stop at just a kiss? It was a tantalizing thought. If Goku was truly so naïve concerning matters of the flesh, that was a vulnerability—one Frieza could ruthlessly exploit. He'd never been one for seduction, and certainly had no desire to win Goku's affections, but he couldn't help wondering. If given the opportunity, what exactly might he be able to do to Goku? How far might he be able to push him?

_How might he be able to break him?_

The idea was intriguing, he had to admit. Mammals generally weren't his type, much less Saiyans, much less _Goku_. But to push Goku to the absolute extremes of pain and pleasure, to make him writhe and scream beneath his fingertips… that would be very, very fun, indeed.

And so, never one to be shy about what he wanted, he sent an envoy to Earth to find Son Goku and inform him that Lord Frieza desired an audience.

It only took a few hours. Goku teleported directly into Frieza's ship, materializing out of nowhere, giving Frieza a slight jolt.

"Yo, Frieza!" Goku grinned, but his eyes betrayed trepidation. "What's up?"

Frieza suppressed a scowl. He really did not appreciate the overly familiar way Goku had taken to addressing him. Nevertheless, he composed himself, masking his ire behind a cordial smile. "Ah, there you are. I must thank you for answering my summon in a timely fashion." He glanced down. Rather than his usual orange gi, Goku wore an unflattering beige ensemble. "Why are you dressed like a farmer?"

"Huh?" Goku looked at his clothes. "Because… I was farming? I am a farmer?" He laughed. "Gotta make money somehow!"

Frieza blinked. Yeah, okay, he… he didn't know what kind of answer he was expecting. What had his life come to, that he was propositioning a farmer? "…Anyhow. I wanted to speak with you regarding a personal matter."

He waved a hand to dismiss the personnel who happened to be in the room. Once they were alone, he steepled his fingers. "I won't mince words. I want you to lay with me."

Goku tilted his head in confusion. "Uh…?"

Oh, for the love of— _"Sex,_ Goku. I am asking you to have sex."

"H-HUH?!" Goku flushed bright red, and Frieza cracked a smirk. "What the… why would you want to…?! You hate me!"

Frieza's lips curled into a wicked smile. "Oh, Goku. How naïve you are." He stood up, and strode over to Goku, circling him like a predator would its prey as he spoke. "You've been bored lately, have you not? I can see it in your eyes. Saiyans simply aren't built for agrarian idyll. The restlessness, the primal lust for battle, is eating away at your insides. And that's exactly what I'm proposing. A battle. A battle with different stakes, but a battle all the same."

He lay two fingers on Goku's chest, and trailed them upwards. Goku gulped as they drifted over his windpipe, before resting just under his chin. "There's no point in denying it. I can feel your heart racing, quivering in fear and excitement, dying to know what I could possibly have in store for you." Frieza chuckled. "You're inexperienced. You may have fathered two children, but you've never been pushed, screaming, past the brink of ecstasy, have you? You can't even begin to fathom how much fun we'll have. You do like fun, don't you?"

Goku took a step back, sweat forming along his brow. "Uhh… I mean, sure, I like fun, but… I dunno, isn't this kinda weird?"

"Perhaps. But since when have you been one for normalcy? Don't even try to deny that you're intrigued by my proposal." Frieza leered into Goku's personal space, close enough that he had to crane his neck to hold eye contact, Goku's breath hot against his skin. Grin widening, he lowered his voice to a whisper, every word layered with sensuality. “As I said. It will be just… like… a battle.”

With a coy flick of his tail he withdrew. "Well? How about it? Unless, of course, you're just too frightened of me."

A long, tense moment of silence hung in the air between them. Goku stared at him, posture unsteady, mouth hanging open, cheeks tinged pink. Frieza's smile didn't waver. Apprehensive though Goku was, a Saiyan was a Saiyan, and he couldn't back down from a challenge. He couldn't hide the sparkle of excitement in his eyes.

And he cracked.

“…Okay, sure, I guess? But why do _you_ want to—”

"Excellent." Frieza turned on heel and walked away, tail swishing in time with his steps. "Meet me in four hours. Don't be late. And make sure to wash before arriving. _Thoroughly_."

* * *

The planet Frieza picked for the encounter was a depleted mining world, perfectly inhabitable but long cleared of sentient life and stripped bare of material value. The decaying remnants of heavy machinery, overgrown with plant life, made it unattractive to potential buyers. It wasn't worth the cost of cleaning up, or even the hassle of destroying. But for this, it was perfect. Maybe a bit unsightly, but roses and linen were never Frieza's style. It was close enough to the heart of his empire that he could shuttle back and forth within minutes, but far from anything of value, should things… escalate.

A literal battle wasn't the intention here, of course, but it was still Goku. Who knew what could happen?

Goku arrived, right on time. He looked around. The scenery wasn't very romantic—an open wasteland, peppered with jagged rocks and bits of scrap metal, tinted red by the alien sky. Better suited as the backdrop for a battle than an amorous rendezvous.

And that was exactly the idea.

Frieza smiled, and strode over to Goku, hips swaying. Though Goku was untransformed, ki thrummed from his body. He wasn't letting his guard down—so he thought.

Also, he smelled quite strongly of soap. Thank _goodness_.

"So glad you could come," said Frieza.

Goku scratched the back of his head, brows knitted together. "Right, so, uhh…"

He then proceeded to ungracefully pull down his pants, just below the hips, and reached down to start stimulating himself.

Frieza blocked his hand. "Well, aren't we eager?" His lips widened to a smirk. "Please. Allow me."

With a gulp, Goku nodded, and withdrew. Then, slowly, sensually, Frieza began stripping him properly, untying his sash, splaying his hands across his chest as he pushed his gi open. There were no surprises. Clothing damage meant he'd seen quite a lot of Goku already, and he was already familiar with Saiyan anatomy—laughably typical mammalian fare. Though he'd never personally lain with a Saiyan before (they _really_ weren't his type), he did have experience with mammals. So warm, so soft, so vulnerable. So easy to break.

At any rate, he stood by his prior judgment. Enemy or not, there was no shame in admitting that Son Goku was, indeed, quite the hunk.

He tossed Goku's clothing aside, leaving no inch of flesh unexposed, and trailed his fingertips downward, languidly grazing along the ridges of abdominal muscles, hair raising to his touch as if naked before a blizzard. Finally, he reached his cock, and Goku shuddered ever so slightly as Frieza curled his fingers around the shaft. External genitalia really was so inconvenient, he thought, stroking and teasing at the loose, sensitive skin beneath his fingertips. What was there to stop him from ripping it off with his bare hands, right here and now?

But Goku wasn't quite that foolish. He watched Frieza intently, fully prepared for battle should the need arise. Besides, that would be such a vulgar path to victory. No, patience was key. He needed to build tension organically.

Stroking turned to pumping. Goku began to harden, and Frieza increased the speed and pressure. He looked up. "Well?"

"I mean… sure, it feels good," said Goku, "but I don't get what you were on about? It's nothing exciting. I can do that with my own hands. Seriously, I've gotten off before, y'know."

Frieza's expression didn't falter. With a flick of his tail, he bent down on one knee, dirt grating against his skin. He kept his face from showing any sign of irritation. _Patience_. "Goku, do you know what 'foreplay' means?"

"Uhh, no?"

"It refers to acts preceding a sexual encounter that set the mood and build excitement." He placed a strategic squeeze to the base of Goku's cock, lips curling as his muscles twitched and a hiss of air escaped his teeth. With his other hand, he rubbed the head between thumb and forefinger, holding eye contact all the while. "In other words, this is but a prelude."

Goku's breath came heavy. "What do you mean?"

Rather than reply, Frieza smiled, and licked his lips. Then, he circled his tongue around the head, and just that little taste was enough to steal a gasp from Goku's lips. His cock grew hotter, firmer, throbbing faster, as Frieza continued teasing him. It wasn't just tactile stimulation—really, Frieza had barely even touched him. He placed a hand to the artery in Goku's thigh, and concentrated on the quickening rate of his pulse. This really was just another one of their battles. Every inch, every muscle of Goku's body was already permanently blazed into Frieza's mind. He knew how he moved, how he ticked, so intimately already. The steps were different, but the rhythm was the same.

And he knew full well that Goku wasn't just getting aroused. He was getting _excited_.

He slid his cock further into his mouth, slowly, coating him in slick saliva, which he rubbed across the base, the skin of his balls. Goku twitched beneath his fingertips, breathing growing heavier, skin growing hotter, heartbeat growing faster. The rhythm was beginning to build.

"H-Huh…" Goku huffed. "That's… pretty good, actually."

Frieza smiled around him, and took in more, massaging with his tongue, gliding his dark lips across every crevice, every vein, swirling and teasing. He sucked at the head, and Goku gasped, muscles clenching, legs trembling. Oh, this was an excellent idea. He was just getting started, and already Goku was beginning to unravel. Who knew his weak point had been so simple all along?

_"Oh… ohhh… ngh…"_

The tempo increased, and Frieza matched it, sucking faster, harder, tonguing the slit, rubbing the base, balls, perineum, in time with every spasm and jolt. He squeezed the shaft, hard, and Goku let out a sharp cry, keeling over, panting, groaning, heart thudding, knees ready to buckle. The pressure was building, reaching critical levels. He just needed to wait for the perfect moment, just before the point of no return, and then—

 _Now_.

Frieza jammed his nails into Goku's thigh and ground the rhythm to a screeching halt, twisting deep into his skin. Goku let out a yelp of surprise, and Frieza pounced, seizing him with his tail, pinning his arms and squeezing at full force, until he was gasping in pain, struggling to breathe. Forcing Goku to his knees in this position took no effort at all, and in the same motion Frieza stood up, tightening his grip, features twisting into a smirk as he beheld the flustered, bewildered look upon his quarry.

Goku struggled, writhing and twitching in his grasp. "Wh-What? Why'd you… stop…?" he wheezed.

Frieza cocked his head, grin widening, and held up his hand, Goku's blood a stunning crimson against the white of his skin. "I'm sorry, would you mind repeating that for me, please? You want me to touch you again, is that it?"

"Y…Yes…"

He grasped Goku's chin, painting his flesh with an alluring trail of his own blood. "How badly?"

Goku bucked his hips uselessly, blood gushing down his thigh. "So bad…"

As if seriously considering it, Frieza placed his free hand to his chin. Then he trailed his bloodstained fingers downward, down his neck, down his chest, abdomen, and finally just millimeters above his cock, trailing just close enough to feel the electricity but not enough to touch, providing no relief. He placed a light tap to the head, and Goku's entire body spasmed, straining as hard as possible into Frieza's touch—and he jammed his fingers into Goku's open mouth, shoving them far enough back to make him choke, forcing up thick saliva, gripping his jaw with enough force to prevent him from biting down.

"Hmmm…" Frieza withdrew both hands, one coated in blood and the other in saliva, leaving Goku coughing and gasping. "Not yet. I think I'd like to watch you squirm a while longer."

Rather than provide any relief, he trailed his saliva-coated fingers around Goku's waist, along the dip of his back and the still sensitive scar where his tail used to be. Frieza pressed down, and Goku lurched forward, hissing through clenched teeth, muscles seizing and shuddering. For a moment, Frieza did nothing else, and let his smile fall to a cold glare as he watched Goku writhe within his grasp. Then his face contorted, into a picture of rage, and he slapped him. And again. And again, at full power, hard enough to welt, tightening the grip in his tail with each successive slap until a normal person would be crushed to paste. Goku let out a cry, straining against his bonds, huffing and groaning, cock red and aching.

Frieza licked clean his bloodstained fingers one by one. The hot metallic taste, the taste of domination, surged through his body, and flipped a switch.

And he let out a roar of laughter.

"Look at you!" he said giddily, eyes wide and frenzied. "You're nothing but a wild monkey in the throes of heat! How does it feel, being completely at my mercy?! I could kill you right now, if I so desired! Tell me, _how does it feel?!_ "

Maybe he could, maybe he couldn't. Though Goku was compliant for now, mind too clouded to answer, a serious threat to his life might snap him out of it. Either way, Frieza was in no rush to find out. Here he was, the man who had defeated and humiliated him, reduced to mere putty beneath his fingertips, a puppet dancing to his tune.

"So, tell me again." Frieza pressed his saliva-coated fingers to Goku's entrance, teasing and rubbing, with his other hand taunting his erection once again. "Do you want me to continue?"

A sharp prod seized a gasp from Goku's lips. "Y-Yes…"

"Then beg me. Beg me to touch you."

"P-Please…"

The sound of Goku's plea wracked Frieza's body with spasms of laughter, and he complied, gripping his slickened cock between shaking, unsteady fingers. But he remained in control of himself, careful not to push Goku too far over the edge. He was going to savor this as long as possible.

The moment he felt Goku's climax building again, Frieza slammed his fist into his gut, hard enough to make him choke up blood. Then he punched him again, beating him senseless until his arousal began to wane, then resumed. And repeated, alternating pain and pleasure, trapping Goku on the precipice of madness.

Goku spasmed wildly in his grasp, eyes glazed and focused, hips twitching, desperate for relief. "P-Please… let me…"

Scowling, Frieza punched him in the face, full force, splitting his skin. "I'm afraid that's not quite _good enough!_ " He yanked his hair, and screamed in his face. _"Tell me! Tell me how badly you want me to let you come!"_

"S-So bad…" His voice came hoarse. "Please…"

Frieza let go of his hair, and released some of the pressure in his tail, enough for Goku to gasp oxygen. Then he coiled his fingers around his throat, and leaned in close enough to feel Goku's strained, wheezing breath on his lips. "Then say my name. I want you to call me Lord Frieza. I want to hear you say: please, Lord Frieza, let me come."

"Please… Lord… F-Frieza… let me come…"

A shudder of laughter wracked Frieza's body, arousal surging through his veins. His lips curled into a crazed, cruel smile, and he slipped a hand between his legs, hissing in pleasure.

"I'm not convinced." He smashed his fist into Goku's jaw, hard enough to feel the crack of bone, and grabbed him by the collar, tightening his grip. "LOUDER! Say it like you mean it!"

"Please, Lord Frieza!" Goku screamed, with all the breath he could muster. "Let me come!"

Frieza chuckled, low and breathy. "Yesss… just like that…"

Strange as it was, his own sexual pleasure hadn't been a factor in propositioning Goku at all. The goal was to break Goku, not to fuck him. Sex just happened to be the weapon of choice. Goku was not his type, not physically or mentally, and Frieza's libido tended on the low side of average to begin with. But, he supposed the complete lack of sexual activity for almost two decades had left him pent up. And here he was, the man whose face had haunted him for all those years, crumbling beneath his touch. It was _exhilarating,_ like an inferno overwhelming his senses.

But there was one more thing. One more thing that could raise this encounter to even greater heights.

As Frieza reached down to relieve Goku's desperate arousal, he paused, lingered, once again close enough to tease, to taunt, to tempt, but not enough to touch. He leaned in, lips centimeters apart, and lifted Goku's chin, staring deep into his glassy, unfocused eyes. "Then I want you to do something for me. I want you to turn Super Saiyan."

With a strangled cry, Goku summoned his energy. Much to Frieza's pleasure, it was more of a struggle than usual, but he mercifully loosened his grip just enough for him to manage. And Frieza watched, fingering himself to the sight of Goku's strained transformation, ki sputtering, hair flickering gold, cock still a painful shade of red, erect and twitching and needing.

Frieza laughed again, ecstatic, breath ragged and shuddering. _"Yes! Just like that!"_ He yanked Goku by his golden hair. _"Say it one more time! Beg me one more time!"_

_"Please, Lord Frieza! Let me come!"_

The words boiled Frieza's laughter and arousal to a burning fever pitch. Yes. Yes, this was _perfect_. There was just one thing left to do.

His laughter subsided to a wicked chuckle. "Very well. I suppose you have earned my favor."

He pulled Goku up to his level, and the drought of relief turned to a deluge. Frieza grabbed his cock and squeezed, hard, jerking him off with one hand and fucking him with the other, fingers slick with his own fluids. Goku let loose a loud, impassioned moan, squeezing his eyes shut as he shuddered into Frieza's touch, pushed past the brink and then further still, muscles spasming in signal of oncoming climax.

And Frieza leaned in to kiss him, biting down hard enough to draw blood as Goku came into his hand, gasping into his mouth. This time, _this time_ , he would absolutely not forget.

He dropped Goku unceremoniously, and he flopped to the ground with the resistance of a fresh corpse. Frieza looked down, at the fresh come in his hand, curled his lip, and splattered it across Goku's chest with a disdainful flick. What a picturesque sight. The legendary Super Saiyan, beaten and broken, the taste of his blood still fresh in Frieza's mouth. Shuddering, laughing, he finished himself off, and the strength of his orgasm forced him several steps back, an ecstasy unlike any he'd ever felt.

Goku lay on his back, chest heaving, covered in blood and come, staring up at the sky with a stupefied expression. "W-Wow…"

Frieza stood, panting, footing unsteady and lips twisted into a manic, open-mouthed smile, staring down at Goku. Then, with a heavy, shaky exhale, he forcibly composed himself, and looked down at his hands, caked in a colorful motley of fluids. Hm. Maybe he should have brought a bigger ship, one with a washroom, so he didn't risk running into anyone on the way back to his quarters and spreading… unsavory rumors. He wiped them off as best as he could, and placed them on his hips.

"My, my. That really is a wonderful look on you, Goku," he said, cocking his head.

Then his lips contorted into a sneer, and he slammed a violent kick into Goku's ribs. And another, and another, until he was writhing on the ground and coughing up blood.

Frieza let out a smug chortle. "I wonder. If I tried to kill you right now, would you even have the strength to resist?"

Apparently the pain had been enough to bring Goku down from his post-orgasmic high. He glanced at Frieza, and cracked a smirk, bloodied and strained though it was. "I'd… I'd like to see you try…"

So, his Saiyan pride hadn't crumbled so easily, after all. "Another time, perhaps," said Frieza, returning his smirk. "But for the time being, wallow in the humiliation of defeat. I must thank you for agreeing to my proposal. As I expected, it was, indeed, great fun. Good day to you, Son Goku."

He waved a hand in farewell, and walked off, leaving Goku naked and beaten under the alien sky.

* * *

With victory singing in his mind, Frieza went back to his daily life. He thought that would be the end of it—a fun, creative, yet temporary way to quench his thirst for vengeance, but nothing more.

A few days later, he would be proven very, very wrong.

In the tallest building on Planet Frieza, the capital of his empire, Frieza sat in his hoverchair before a conglomeration of various high-ranking officers and shareholders with a vested financial interest in his return to power. He tapped at a small remote, advancing to the next slide of his visual presentation. 

"As you can see here, two of the five core sectors that comprise the Cold family's de jure borders split away from the Planet Trade Organization shortly after my, ah… disappearance, shortly followed by a third. In other words, the empire's foundation was fractured, and there simply wasn't enough central authority to maintain a grip on our more distant territories. Especially with such an appalling lack of strong leadership. Now that the rebels have been vanquished and the capital sector is once again fully secure, we must act quickly to— _GAH!"_

The sudden appearance of Goku brought Frieza's train of thought to a screeching halt, the shock so great that he fell right out of his chair.

"Yo, Frieza! Up for a round two?"

"…WHAT?!"


	3. Chapter 3

Nobody spoke. The entire meeting room sat in stunned silence, all eyes fixed on the bright orange intruder.

Finally, a fish-faced mogul cleared his throat. "Lord Frieza, who… who is this?"

Frieza didn't respond immediately, mind still struggling to process what the hell was happening. After a moment, he got to his feet, dusted himself off, and cleared his throat. "No one. He's no one. Just an irritating pest I cannot seem to shake." He glared at Goku. "Can this wait? As you might be able to surmise, I'm rather in the middle of something."

Goku blinked, and looked around the room. He waved awkwardly. "Ahahaha… sorry. When are you gonna be done?"

Frieza stared at him, slack-jawed. When was he going to be…?! "Uh… I… s-should be free in about three hours?"

"Got it, seeya!"

And then Goku disappeared, as suddenly as he'd arrived, once again leaving everyone in bewildered silence as Frieza's brain continued visibly short-circuiting.

Eventually, Berryblue's voice snapped him out of it—nobody else brave enough to speak first and risk pissing him off. "So… you were saying, my Lord?"

"Right. Uh." He knelt to the ground, gracelessly fishing around for the fallen remote. Then he hopped back into his hoverchair, and cleared his throat. "As I was saying…"

* * *

When Goku reappeared, Frieza was in the bathroom—thankfully just brushing his teeth. Even though he'd been expecting Goku to show up again at some point, he'd apparently lost track of time. Jolted, he started choking on his mouthful of toothpaste.

"Alright, it's been three hours!" said Goku, grinning. "So, you ready?"

…He could not be serious.

Holding up a finger, Frieza proceeded to hack his lungs out, then rinse his mouth and towel his face dry. He glanced at the digital wall clock. Three hours, down to the minute. Admittedly, the mental image of Goku sitting around, twitching eagerly, literally watching the seconds tick down to the promised hour, was quite amusing.

Once he managed to compose himself, Frieza lowered his hand, and cleared his throat. "I only meant that I would be free to _talk_ , not…" He rubbed his temple, eyes squeezed shut, then crossed his arms and met Goku's gaze. "Firstly, I'll put it in simple terms you can understand. It's late. It's been a long day. I am tired, and I have things to do tomorrow. Unlike you Saiyans, I actually have a life outside of training and fighting. So I'm sorry to say, no, I am not in the mood to sleep with _anyone_ right now, much less you. Secondly, what makes you think I have any interest in a 'round two' to begin with?! I was quite satisfied with where we ended things last time."

Satisfying as it was to learn he'd left Goku so desperately craving more, it was precisely for that reason he was tempted to leave him hanging.

Goku deflated. "Awww… seriously?"

"Thirdly…" Frieza tapped his tail to the floor. "Not that I care one way or the other about the particulars of your personal life, but aren't you _married?"_

He definitely recalled hearing about a wife. True, they'd slept together once already, but that was just a one-time thing. An experiment. It meant nothing. What Goku proposed was more along the lines of a full-fledged affair. While the sanctity of Goku's marriage was perhaps the last thing in all the universes Frieza gave a fraction of a shit about, he really hadn't taken him for the type.

"Um, yeah?" Goku scratched his head. "But what does that have to do with anything?"

Frieza paused. Oh. Oh, this was interesting. Did he really not know? Goku had proven himself naïve concerning worldly matters, so perhaps it shouldn't have been surprising, but still. He'd assumed that exclusivity was the key reason people got married in the first place—barring consensual polyamory, but that didn't seem to be the case here.

…Hm. He rather liked the idea of having dirt on Goku.

A chuckle fell from his lips. "Never mind. Very well, I suppose I'll indulge you. But I wasn't kidding when I said not tonight." He smiled cheerily. "I'll be available this weekend, the same time and place as before. And I repeat what I said then: wash up thoroughly, and don't keep me waiting."

"Alright!" Goku pumped his fist in the air. "Can't wait! Seeya then!"

"Wait, one more thing," said Frieza. "If this is to be a recurring affair, I do have one rule. You're not allowed to go down on me."

"What's that mean?"

"It means that you are to keep your mouth _above my waist, where I can see it, at all times."_ His eye twitched. "And certainly _nowhere near_ my genital area, are we clear?!"

Goku nodded. "Ohh, okay. How come?"

Frieza lashed his tail in Goku's direction, eyes narrowing. "Because you're a biter."

* * *

Once again, Goku arrived right on time, freshly showered and ready to go.

And the first thing he did, the moment he appeared, was punch Frieza straight in the face.

Frieza had no time to react whatsoever. Goku's attack sent him flying with a yelp, crashing him into a rock formation about ten meters away. With a booming crack, it broke apart on impact, burying him in an undignified heap of dust and rubble, scraped and bruised and very much rattled—but uninjured.

Gritting his teeth, he pulled himself onto all fours as Goku flew into his field of vision, grin plastered across his face. "How's that for some foreplay?"

Frieza stared, hand gingerly pressed to his bruised jaw. "Goku, I think you're missing the point of… never mind." It did set a mood, albeit not quite a sexual one. He pulled himself to his feet, dusted himself off, and parted his lips into a smirk. "Very well. If that's the game you want to play, then _that's the game we'll play!"_

He let out a battle cry, and charged. His fist crashed against Goku's guard, and the force of impact tore a shockwave through the air. The world stood still. Once again, it was just him versus Goku, eyes and fists locked in the heat of battle, adrenaline surging through Frieza's veins like fire. Time unfroze, and they clashed. Punching, kicking, dodging, blocking, seamless and natural and even comfortable, as if by pure muscle memory from all their battles before.

But this wasn't a death match. It was a game—a game that Frieza was all too content to let himself enjoy. Of course, if the opportunity to kill Goku arose, he wouldn't pass it up. But if there was one thing Frieza had learned over the years, it was that killing Son Goku was easier said than done.

That wasn't the point here, though. Frieza was no Saiyan. He didn't have that instinctual drive to train and fight, to push his limits as far as they could go, but he'd kept up his training for the express purpose of surpassing Goku. And he'd never had a sparring partner. Target practice, yes, as Tagoma had been unfortunate enough to learn, but none had ever been able to pose him enough of a challenge. Death match or not, an opportunity to fight Goku was an opportunity to fight Goku, each clash of fists a step closer to victory. Who better to spar than the very person he was training to kill?

In other words, he could get used to this.

But unfortunately for Goku, he'd said it himself. This wasn't a regular battle. This was foreplay. Perhaps Goku possessed the advantage in raw combat, but when it came to matters of the flesh…

Goku fell for his feint. In a normal fight, a stray blow or two connecting would do little to turn the tide of battle. But this was not a normal fight. Goku knew how to deal with a groin attack, but not Frieza shoving his hand down his pants to squeeze his cock directly. He gasped, stumbling midair, guard broken for Frieza to seize him with his tail. Well, he hadn't been able to pin his arms, but that was fine. In a single fluid motion, Frieza punched him in the gut and pulled him forward by the groin, hard enough to make him groan.

"My apologies. It appears my hand slipped yet again." Smirking, Frieza leaned forward, and whispered in his ear. "I think that's quite enough foreplay now, don't you?"

Goku let out another low groan as Frieza began massaging his cock, melting into the sensation of tough fingers kneading his sensitive skin. "Y-Yeah…"

Fucking mid-air seemed like a hassle. Frieza looked around, then gestured to a nearby patch of grass, free of rocks and jagged machinery. His grasp on Goku's cock didn't falter as he led him over, but he released his tail once they landed. Not a minute had passed, Frieza had barely even touched him, yet he was already flushed, panting, and quite hard.

Frieza chuckled. "Losing your composure already, are we? Perhaps I should have expected as much of a Saiyan, to fall in line with the crack of my whip so easily."

Goku returned his smirk, though the corner of his lip faltered as his breathing grew ragged. "Don't expect… to make me beg again so easi—" He gasped as Frieza squeezed the base of his shaft.

"Oh? Is that a challenge?" Frieza cocked his head, rubbing the head between thumb and forefinger. "Even so, I can still make you do as I please. Tell me, which would you prefer? My hands, or my mouth?"

He punctuated the statement with a firm pump. Goku inhaled sharply. "Ngh… mouth…"

Frieza withdrew his hand, and the fabric of Goku's pants tented awkwardly around his erection. "I'll need you to remove your clothes for me, then. Everything, if you please."

Goku complied eagerly, tossing every scrap of clothing aside in a heap. But Frieza didn't move.

"Well done. Now, tell me: why should I suck you off?" He grinned. "Will you beg me? Will you call me 'Lord Frieza' again?"

"Not a chance. I know what to expect this time." Goku mirrored his grin. "But the way I see it, you're the one who suggested this in the first place. That means you've been overwhelmed by pleasure, too. You have your weak points. I just gotta figure out what they are."

Frieza put his hands on his hips. "How astute of you. Maybe. Maybe not. But I hope you'll forgive me for finding it difficult to take your bravado seriously in your current state of undress." He nodded in the direction of Goku's exposed, reddened erection.

Goku chuckled. "Well, if you're just gonna stand there, I can always just get myself off while you watch."

"I suppose you could," said Frieza. "But don't forget that this encounter was your idea. You want me. And personally, I just don't see what I have to gain from it. So I ask again." He grabbed Goku's erection with both hands, one at the head and the other at the base, rubbing the skin of his balls. Goku groaned, low and sensual, bravado coming apart at the seams. Frieza lowered his voice to a whisper, staring straight into his eyes. "Why should I suck you off?"

Goku huffed through clenched teeth as Frieza lazily stroked his cock, fingers grazing too lightly to provide any real relief. "Please…"

Frieza gave his tail a satisfied flick, and smiled. "That's better. Now, why don't you sit down? I'd rather not have to kneel."

Goku's legs damn near buckled, and Frieza positioned himself between them, a single teasing lick enough to make him shudder. Then he lowered his head, and took him fully into his mouth, monitoring his breathing and heartbeat all the while. It wouldn't do to let this encounter end before he had his fun, too. He began sucking, saliva warm and wet, and kneaded the shaft. Then he prodded lower, rubbing the loose skin of his balls. Goku gasped, and twitched, breath sputtering, groaning into Frieza's touch. The rhythm intensified, reaching a fever pitch—and Frieza slammed it to a screeching halt with a painful blow to Goku's diaphragm, and he broke into a wheezing coughing fit.

Frieza lifted his head, licking his lips with a smile, tail swaying coyly as he met Goku's gaze. In this state, a single, delightful tap at the head was all it took to wrack Goku's entire body with spasms of pleasure.

"J-Just wait, Frieza…" Goku managed a half-hearted smirk. "Pretty soon, I'll figure out how to have _you_ begging—"

Frieza's hand shot out the moment the words left his mouth, grasping him by the throat, squeezing his windpipe with enough pressure to crush steel. Goku sputtered, choked out strangled noises of pain, desperately trying to suck in whatever oxygen he could, scrabbling to dislodge Frieza's hand.

For a long while, Frieza didn't move. He sat, head bowed, eyes darkened, veins popping in his hand. Then, deathly silent, he glared up at Goku, eyes blazing dangerous crimson.

"You will _never_ make me beg."

They held eye contact for a long, uneasy moment, the muscles in Goku's body tensing in full preparation for a real fight. Then, slowly, Frieza removed his hand, allowing Goku a merciful gasp of breath, but it did nothing to relieve the tension in the air.

Eventually Frieza broke the tension with a wrench to Goku's softening cock, seizing the lull in his guard to grab him with his tail, tight enough to make him grunt in pain. Then he climbed on top of him, pinning him to the ground, and punched him full in the face, blood splattering across his fist.

"Just for that insult," he said, pumping the shaft until he was fully hard again, "I'm tempted to just leave you here to get yourself off after all. Or maybe I should break your arms so you can't even do that. What do you think?"

Goku chuckled, but it came shaky and labored, and his eyes were starting to glaze over. "Heh… I'd rather you didn't…"

Frieza cocked his head, and aimed him a disdainful scowl. "Well, then." He yanked Goku's hair, and leaned in until he could feel the Saiyan's hot breath on his lips, fingers lingering just above his aching cock. "What do we say?"

"P-Please…"

The heat of Goku's plea on his lips shot an electrifying shudder down Frieza's spine. He let out a low, breathy chuckle, slipped a hand between his thighs, and positioned himself between Goku's legs, tilting his hips for complete access. With his free hand he massaged upwards from the perineum, roughly palming his balls, then finally up the underside of his shaft, twitching and throbbing in time with Goku's ragged breathing. Then Frieza stopped, fingers rested on the head, as if to consider something.

"Well, you've misbehaved too much already to deserve my mouth," he said, then smiled. "Perhaps next time. But I have another idea."

Before Goku could question him, Frieza prodded his entrance with the fingers he'd been using to pleasure himself, coating Goku in his own slick arousal. Then he withdrew his tail, and, with a teasing flick, slipped it inside. Curling, rubbing, searching for just the right spot—

Goku let out a cry of ecstasy, and dug his fingers into the soft ground until his knuckles turned bone white. Right there. Good. That freed up his hands. He pumped with full force, squeezing harder and fucking harder as the pressure intensified, Goku's groans building into screams as he teetered on the brink of climax, finally culminating in explosive, back-arching, toe-curling orgasm, directly into Frieza's hand.

He let the white, viscous fluid drip from his fingers onto Goku's softening cock, and once again took in the sight of his worst foe spent, naked, bloodied, gasping for breath. It was _sublime_ , more than enough to send him over the edge. He pressed his stained fingertips into himself, and the heat of Goku's come wracked through him, blazing into shuddering, laughing climax.

This would be a fun arrangement, indeed.


	4. Chapter 4

"Kakarot, where the hell have you been lately?"

It hadn't been five minutes since Goku arrived on Whis and Beerus's planet, and already Vegeta was nagging him, arms crossed, finger tapping his forearm.

Goku laughed nervously. "Oh, y'know! Been working! Chi-Chi's been needling me harder than usual lately! I'm only gonna be staying a week before I gotta head back!"

Vegeta jabbed a finger into his chest. "Yes. That's exactly the problem! Ever since the fight with Broly, you've been working diligently and haven't made a single fuss or run away to train. You've left me alone with Whis for almost a month! That's not like you!" He narrowed his eyes, and moved a hand to tug open Goku's collar, revealing a conspicuous bruise along the side of his neck. "…Where did you get this?"

"Huh?" Goku flinched away, sweat forming along his brow. "Uhh… my tractor fell on me."

"…Your tractor fell on you."

"Yup!"

Vegeta's glare grew fiercer, until he was staring at Goku with the intensity of a lab specimen under a microscope, and Goku felt himself beginning to crack under the sheer, unyielding pressure.

"Is something the matter?"

The sudden appearance of Whis dispelled the tension, his mere presence enough to physically drive a wedge between them. Goku breathed a quiet sigh of relief. That was close.

"Kakarot hasn't been acting like a hyperactive child lately, is what the matter is!" Vegeta clenched his teeth. "There has to be something going on, and he's not telling me what it is!"

Whis curled his lips into a coy smile. "Oh, Vegeta. Are you worried that your partner here is seeing another man again?" He punctuated the question with a wink.

"WHA—" Vegeta's whole face turned beet red, and the words on his tongue died a horrible, sputtering death. Finally, he crossed his arms, scoffed, and stalked away, muttering incomprehensibly, ears still tinged scarlet.

Though Vegeta was out of sight, Whis's shit-eating grin did not falter.

"Wait a sec," said Goku. "You know about…?"

Whis chortled. "Yes, Goku. I know all about your dalliances with Frieza. I've been keeping an eye on him as of late. He's a God of Destruction candidate, not to mention quite the loose cannon. Any knowledge of his extracurriculars is incidental. Though, I must say, it came as quite the surprise! The sexual tension was palpable, to be sure, but I never took you for the promiscuous type!"

Goku looked at him seriously. "Whis. _Nobody ever told me you could combine sex and fighting._ This is like… a whole new level of exciting!" He grinned. "Mind keeping it secret? Especially from Vegeta and Chi-Chi."

"Oh? And why is that?" asked Whis.

"I mean, you know how Vegeta is! He got jealous that one time I went and fought Hit behind his back, and he hates Frieza!" He scratched the back of his head. "And Chi-Chi, well… she'd be mad I'm spending so much time with someone who wants to kill me, especially when I should be working…"

Whis tilted his head, finger curled to his chin. "Hmm. Very well, your secret is safe with me. I'll just sit back and watch the fireworks."

Goku gave him a thumbs up. "Thanks!"

He moved to leave, but Whis spoke again.

"By the way, I don't think I need to remind you at this point, but this _is_ Frieza you're dealing with, so do be careful. He can be a bit… well." Whis smiled. "You know."

Goku's smile widened to a broad, cocky smirk. "Oh, believe me. I know _exactly_ how he is."

And with that, he ran off to flag down Vegeta for a round of sparring.

Once Goku was out of earshot, Whis chuckled to himself. "Fireworks, indeed. I'd better start making some of that 'popcorn' treat Bulma shared with me. It really is perfect for occasions like this."

* * *

To put it bluntly, getting laid on the regular was doing Frieza some real favors.

It actually had very little to do with Goku himself. Sure, it was satisfying to make him squirm, and to exert some degree of control over the problem of the man who defeated him continuing to draw breath. Beyond that, though, there really wasn't any deeper meaning to it. It was just a good source of fun.

But that was exactly it. Fun was a scarce commodity in Frieza's life. It had been for a very, very long time. Even before Namek, his work-life balance had never been the best. Running such a vast empire was a time-consuming ordeal, and as the years went on, as his empire expanded, he gradually afforded himself less and less time for any activities outside of work. Bloodshed was always good fun, on the occasion he was required to get his hands dirty, but there was more to ruling than raw strength. Paperwork, meetings, maintaining constant vigilance against sabotage and assassination, the sheer mental energy required to manage and track everything under his command… it was strenuous, to say the least. He could handle it, of course, but becoming numb to the toll it was taking didn't mean that toll had ceased, chipping away at him little by little.

 _Since_ Namek, on the other hand… well. Obviously the day-to-day minutiae of running a galactic-scale paramilitary real estate empire had become less of a problem. He'd been dead for two decades. Intent as he was on making this resurrection count, it was hard to remember how to live. The only pleasure he remembered was violence—that had always been a constant. But… enjoying a meal. Taking a leisurely stroll. Relaxing without the stress of fending off horrific memories, constantly lingering on the periphery of consciousness. The mere act of existing, without static white noise ringing in his head like a barrier between himself and the world around him. All these parts of living were long forgotten.

The first time, he'd fallen because he'd been too complacent. The second time, because he'd been too frantic. He would not fall again.

Sexual pleasure was another thing he'd forgotten. After all, it had fallen pretty low on his list of priorities even before Namek. He'd never had any interest in a committed emotional relationship, so it was just a fun pastime—one he'd lost most interest in since leaving young adulthood and truly coming into his own as emperor. He hadn't even realized how tight his nerves were coiled, how high-strung and frustrated he was, until allowed a few hours each week to just… unwind, and release.

Training had a similar effect, too, when undertaken at a stable and reasonable pace rather than a frantic rush to push himself as far as possible, in as short a time as possible, no matter the cost. That was something he was still getting the hang of. Just three hours each day, right after waking up, followed by as much of a proper meal as he could force down. It had become routine, invigorating rather than exhausting. He had to sacrifice a few hours of sleep in order to fit everything into his day, but that was fine. He never slept through the whole night anyway.

And it wasn't like regular sex and exercise were enough to solve all his problems.

Though a stable training regimen was unquestionably healthier, it was also slower to show results. Frieza felt his strength starting to plateau. Naturally gifted as he was, he wasn't a Saiyan. He had a life outside of combat. But raw power was all or nothing, and apparently stability meant sacrificing progress. And stagnation grew more and more irritating with every passing day.

If he wanted to claw his way back to the top of the universe, he would have to do something different.

He knew what the power he sought felt like. He knew his body had been awakened to the potential, that if he trained hard enough, channeled his energy in just the right way, he could replicate the godly energy he'd wielded once before and truly make it his own. It wouldn't be the first time he stole a technique from Beerus.

Frieza held out his arm, and concentrated, focused with all his might to squeeze every ounce of ki in his body to a single point. The strain was tremendous, agonizing, as if the pressure caving from every direction threatened to rip his body to shreds. If he weren't so durable, it might have.

A single, unstable spark was all he could materialize, and it immediately exploded with the force of a thousand bombs, slamming Frieza into the massively fortified wall of his training room with a loud, sickening crack.

He wiped the blood from his mouth, gritted his teeth, and did it again.

* * *

"Y'know, Frieza, I've noticed something."

Frieza glanced down at Goku, restrained beneath him—an unexpected jolt of pleasure was always enough to make him lower his guard—and paused mid-handjob. "And what would that be?"

"For all your talk of how mind-blowing sex can be," said Goku, "we haven't actually had proper sex, have we?"

Frieza eyed him. "Define 'proper sex.'"

"I mean, we've done a lot of stuff, but we haven't really… you know." Arms pinned just above the elbow, Goku made a lewd finger-in-hole gesture to the best of his ability. "Why is that?"

A pause, and then Frieza returned to stroking his cock. "Personal preference."

It wasn't a lie, nor was it specific to Goku. There wasn't any negative experience to blame. He'd fucked "properly," as Goku put it, and been on the receiving end of favors, but it wasn't his style. He preferred stimulating (and often torturing—anyone willing to sleep with him knew damn well what he was about) his partner through other means—mouth, hands, tail, telekinesis if he was feeling adventurous. The vicarious pleasure of making another person squirm beneath his fingertips was greater than any direct sexual contact, and quite frankly he preferred managing his own orgasms to sitting idly as someone less familiar with his body struggled to push his buttons.

"You know what I think?" The corner of Goku's lip twitched upward. "I think it's because you don't wanna give up any control."

Frieza squeezed, hard, and Goku hissed through clenched teeth. "Elaborate."

"You've been— _nngh_ —the one calling the shots every time. You're the one who decides who gets off and when. You've been totally untouchable. I don't even know what you've got going on down there." He chuckled. "You're afraid I'll be able to make you scream, too."

Frieza tightened his grip, both with his hand and tail, enough to dig his nails into Goku's flesh, squeezing out a strangled grunt of pain. His voice came low. "You're playing a dangerous game, Son Goku."

Though struggling to breathe, Goku managed to cock an unsteady smirk. "Isn't that… the whole idea here?"

With a low chuckle, Frieza removed his hand. "The curiosity is eating away at you, isn't it?" he purred. Then he sat up, bending one knee to expose himself, wet skin flushed purple with arousal, and slipped a teasing finger inside. "You're _dying_ to know what I feel like."

Goku watched, breath growing more and more labored, as Frieza fingered himself. His grin didn't falter. "Maybe I am… unless you really are afraid you'll like it too much."

Frieza knelt to all fours, and moved closer, grinding against Goku's thigh, hot and enticing. "And why should I indulge you? Why should I, Lord Frieza, allow you inside me?"

"Would it help if I said 'please'?"

He tilted his head. "Hm. Perhaps." Then he got up, and positioned his legs on either side of Goku's hips, slick entrance grazing the tip of his cock. He suppressed a shudder wracking his body from the point of contact, and gave the shaft a teasing stroke, fingers wet with his own fluids. "Well? Go on, then." His lips curled into a smile. "Say 'please.' 'Please fuck me, Lord Frieza.'"

"Please fuck me, Frieza." Goku breathed a laugh. "I told you, didn't I? No way I'm calling you that again."

Frieza clicked his tongue in irritation. Close enough. He sighed. "Oh, very well. You'd best feel honored to be granted such a privilege."

And he lowered his hips, slowly, exhaling as Goku's cock disappeared into his body. It was an unfamiliar feeling, the pulsing heat and girth inside him, but not unpleasant. His prior experience with penetrative sex had always been on the opposite end. Not out of preference, but out of necessity. Frankly, his preference was no direct sexual contact at all, but there were certain… problems, that could arise, if he assumed his true form with an ordinary partner. Problems like losing control and killing them in the throes of passion. Even in his first form it was often an exercise in restraint, let alone the occasions he'd assumed his second. He was simply too powerful for anyone to handle.

With Goku, it was the opposite. His true form _was_ the only one that could match him. Lacking the requisite anatomy for penetration made no difference, but it was a new experience all the same.

He clenched the muscles in his hips, and rocked back and forth to steady himself, each throb coiling tighter and tighter within his body. Lips parted, he splayed his hands across Goku's chest, roughly thumbing his nipples and gazing into his eyes with a smile. "Well? How is it? How do I feel?"

"P-Pretty…" A moan pushed past Goku's lips as he tried to speak. "Pretty good…"

Frieza's grin widened, labored breaths falling from his lips. He leaned forward, gripped Goku's shoulders, and fucked him "properly." Slowly, at first, then faster, slamming his hips up and down at full force, slickening until the motion was effortless, driving in his cock deeper and harder. Pleasure surged through his body, and he had to bite down to suppress a moan. He tightened his tail and dug his nails into Goku's flesh, hard enough that veins bulged through his skin, rhythm growing fiercer and air growing hotter, each snap of hips kindling the inferno. Frieza let out a gasp, and shoved a hand between his legs, grinding against his fingers to relieve the building pressure, shuddering, sputtering—

Goku climaxed inside him with enough force to trigger his own seconds after, and Frieza had to bite down so hard to keep himself from screaming that he tasted blood.

For a long moment, he didn't move. The world faded back from white, and he sat atop Goku, heart pounding, breath heavy and labored, in sync with Goku's own.

"W…Well?" Goku managed. "What'd… _you_ think? You seemed… pretty into it…"

Frieza narrowed his eyes, and finally withdrew, releasing the grip in his hands and tail. Still light-headed, he forced himself to stand, warm come gushing down his thigh, and cast a glance down at Goku.

"Perhaps." His lip twitched into a smirk. "But you'll have to earn that privilege again."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “It wouldn’t be the first time he stole a technique from Beerus”—this refers to my longstanding headcanon that Frieza’s Supernova (the attack used to destroy Planet Vegeta) was directly modeled on Beerus’s Sphere of Destruction. We know the two have history, the attacks are too similar for me to think it’s a coincidence, and Frieza is absolutely the type to imitate a god.


	5. Chapter 5

In hindsight, Frieza probably should have quit while he was in the lead.

The battle—the foreplay—lasted longer than usual, went hard enough that they'd needed to transform, Frieza to Golden and Goku to Blue, then reverted once their stamina had run out, completely spent and gasping for breath, epic battle turned to desperate slugfest. Goku was in top form today, seamlessly blocking and dodging and weaving and not leaving Frieza a single opening to throw him to the ground and have his way with him.

Until— _there_.

Seeing his window, Frieza grabbed him below the belt, and the surge of pleasure seized a gasp from Goku's lips. Rhythm disrupted, Frieza made to grapple him with his tail—

—and Goku blocked the attack.

"What—!?"

The surprise was enough of a distraction for Goku to shove aside Frieza's guard, twist him around, and pin him to his chest.

"Unhand me at once, you—ghk!"

He was cut off by the sudden sensation of Goku's hand prodding at his groin area.

"You know, I've always wondered what your deal is," said Goku. "You're always naked, but there's nothing there until we're doing it? You don't even seem to have a butthole. What's up with that?" He grinned. "Guess I'm about to find out!"

Goku continued his exploration, rubbing and poking at Frieza's genital region, stroking with his large, calloused fingers, until he reached a small fold of skin between his inner thighs, almost imperceptible unless closely inspected. Frieza took in a sharp breath, and Goku teased it further, loosening the tough skin until the opening was wide enough to fit his fingertip, warm and rough inside him.

"My species…" Frieza hissed through clenched teeth as Goku continued stroking him open, "has a layer of skin or armor to protect such a s-sensitive area… everything is stored internally until in use… I don't know how you aliens manage it, just exposed and vulnerable and f-flopping about all the time, I've seen what happens when one of you gets struck in the— _NGH!_ "

Frieza gasped as Goku continued poking inside him, making contact with the flushed, sensitive nub of tender skin and nerves where his own erection would be in his lower forms—similar in sexual function to a mammalian clitoris, but otherwise anatomically distinct, too acute and distended when fully aroused. Goku let out a light chuckle, breath hot against his skin, and pressed harder, the jolt of pleasure making Frieza lurch forward in his grasp, tail curling in autonomic nerve response. He continued kneading and stroking, pushing Frieza to the ground, to his knees, hand pressed to the back of his neck, cock hardening against his thighs.

"You see? I told you," said Goku. "You have your weaknesses, too."

Frieza ground his teeth together, feeling a vein bulge in his forehead. He'd lost. How humiliating. But honestly, it was bound to happen sooner or later, at the rate Goku had been learning to match his steps, and the thickening fog of arousal left him not caring quite as much as he otherwise might have. "Oh, shut up and get on with it already."

"Say pretty please?"

"Or don't." Frieza thrashed his tail in irritation. "I'll gladly take the lead if you're not up to task."

With a snicker, Goku undid his pants. "Aw, you called my bluff. Alright, here we go!"

He took a moment to properly position himself, plying Frieza open with his free hand, and began prodding his cock against his entrance.

"You can't be serious," Frieza snapped, straining his neck toward Goku. "You can't just— _you call that foreplay?!"_

Goku withdrew. "Huh? We fought for at least an hour there, though!"

Frieza dragged a hand down his face. For the first time in all his years, he felt genuine sympathy for another living creature. Namely, Goku's wife. "Penetration requires lubrication, you imbecile. I am not sufficiently aroused. Just—keep using your fingers until I say you can proceed."

"Well… okay, I guess." He went back to fingering him. It was a bit awkward, since Goku was unfamiliar with his anatomy and couldn't see what he was doing from this position, but he felt his way around, poking and exploring, stroking his entrance and prodding at his walls. "Hmm… let's see, you seemed to like it before when I touched you right… here?"

He pressed his slick, hot fingers to Frieza's sensitive nub, pushing a groan from his lips. "That's right… right there…"

Goku continued, kneading and rubbing in circles, and the ecstasy began to build. Frieza dug his nails into the ground, tail twitching erratically, grinding against Goku's fingertips. Goku prodded him with his knuckle, and he gasped, melting into his touch—but composed himself, and chuckled.

"Very well," said Frieza. "This should be sufficient. Proceed as you please."

"Alright, finally!"

Goku released his neck, grabbed his waist, and thrust into him, hot and throbbing, easily but roughly. Clearly he was eager. Frieza bit his lip, but a hiss of air escaped his teeth, and then a moan, as Goku drove his cock in deeper. He rocked his hips in time with each thrust, and moved a hand between his legs. The pressure was building, but it wasn't enough.

Frieza scowled. "Is that really the best you can do? I feel as though I'm about to fall asleep." He smacked Goku with his tail. _"Harder."_

Goku complied, and quickened his pace, gripping harder and fucking harder. Like hell Frieza was just going to lie down and let Goku have his way with him. Even unpinned there wasn't much he could do from this position, but he would be an active participant, and he would make Goku work to please him.

And also, he still had control of his tail.

Presently lacking the fine motor control for tail sex, Frieza's first instinct was to choke Goku, but after a moment he… reconsidered. Too close to the danger zone, especially when he didn't have a clear view of him. Instead, he went for the diaphragm. Goku let out a sharp gasp as Frieza's tail coiled beneath his ribs, squeezing, throwing him off balance and disrupting his rhythm as he teetered too close to the edge for Frieza's taste. He wasn't quite done with him yet.

"Don't tell me that's all you can handle," Frieza said with a smirk. "I expected more from you."

Goku rasped out a chuckle. "Nope… doing just fine… y-you?"

Another thrust, weaker, but enough to send a pleasurable shudder up Frieza's spine. " _Splendid._ "

There wasn't much else Frieza could do, except grit his teeth and buck his hips as Goku drove into him faster and harder, slick enough that each thrust was effortless, and let the pleasure build organically. Though not his preferred position, it was hardly unenjoyable. Goku was getting the hang of this.

Apparently, the learning curve was still a work in progress. With a low groan, Goku came inside him, and let out a satisfied exhale, falling limp in his grasp.

Anger pierced the fog of arousal.

"WOULD IT KILL YOU TO EXERT A MODICUM OF SELF-RESTRAINT?! I'M NOWHERE NEAR FINISHED YET!"

"Huh…? Oh, right." Goku struggled back upright. "Uh, I don't think I can go another round yet, so what should I…?"

Oh, for _fuck's_ sake. Frieza removed his tail. _"Ugh._ Just release me and I'll do the rest. If you intend on assuming the leading role with me, you'd best learn to pace yourself."

Goku released his hold on Frieza's hips, flopping to the ground, and Frieza scrambled away to jerk himself off to thoughts of violently murdering Goku, seething all the while. The orgasm was underwhelming, but still enough to make him collapse, panting, exhausted from the preceding battle.

And then the worst possible thing happened.

Frieza's stomach growled.

Goku cracked an eye open. "Huh? Was that you?"

"Uh…"

"I guess we were going at it for a while there." He let out a labored laugh. "Do you wanna like… get something to eat?"

Frieza opened his mouth to reply, but words completely failed him. "Could… could you repeat that?"

With a bit of a struggle, Goku pulled himself upright. "Hey, you don't have to be embarrassed! Besides, I feel bad for leaving you hanging there. I'll treat you!"

Frieza stared at him, long and hard, struggling to process what the hell Goku was saying—partly because of the lingering post-orgasmic haze, partly because he was just so, _so_ baffled. He spoke slowly. "As… _thrilled_ as I am over the prospect of literally breaking bread with you, neither of us are exactly in a socially presentable state right now." Showing up to a public venue covered in blood, dirt, sweat, and… other fluids, not to mention Goku's clothing in tatters, was bad form. "Unless you actually planned on taking me _to your house."_

"Nah, I don't think Chi-Chi would let me keep seeing you if she knew," said Goku. "You're too dangerous."

Something told Frieza that was not the primary reason Goku's wife would disapprove.

"But… hm, you have a point. One sec!"

And Goku disappeared before Frieza could get in another word. He stared, utterly bewildered, at the empty space where he had been, and tried to figure out what the hell he was supposed to do in this situation.

Goku was obviously coming back, so… should he wait? If he headed back now, he'd run the risk of Goku reappearing in front of his subordinates and… oversharing. Rumors were already spreading about where exactly Frieza was going every weekend, and why. Not that it mattered if he were caught rendezvousing with Goku, or anyone else, but lately he'd found himself more bothered by gossip than he used to be. People would _talk_. They _loved_ to talk about him, so much more freely than they used to. His years of absence had dulled their terror, and he was too short-staffed to kill with impunity.

On the other hand, obviously the idea of doing something as familiar as sharing a meal with _Son Goku_ was appalling, but if he counted Whis's little Tournament of Power afterparty, it wouldn't be the first time. Also, it occurred to him that this was a pretty weird place to draw the line after having Goku's cock in his mouth. Or the tournament itself, for that matter.

That still didn't mean Frieza wanted to, though.

Sighing, he pulled himself to his feet, and headed back to his shuttle to go clean himself off. He still had no idea what to do, but he wasn't going to sit around covered in filth. And he really, really didn't want Goku to appear in front of his staff again. And so he waited.

And waited.

And Frieza began to wonder if he was an idiot for waiting on Goku in the first place. Maybe he should just leave already and deal with the consequences if he did eventually decide to show up.

Not a minute after this thought crossed his mind, Goku reappeared—sparkling clean, wearing a fresh gi, carrying a set of towels, a small green bean, and… a knee-length black dress coat?

"Oh, good, you're cleaned up too!" Goku grinned. "Sorry about that, I realized you'd probably get some weird looks walking around on Earth without any clothes, so I borrowed this from a friend of mine."

Frieza got the distinct impression that this friend of Goku's did not know about her coat being borrowed.

"And I figured you could use one of these, too." He held out the bean. "We roughed each other up pretty bad back there. It's called a Senzu Bean. They heal your injuries."

Frieza accepted the bean, and gingerly turned it over in his hands. "Yes, I… do recall something like this." Hesitantly, he popped it into his mouth, and the effect was instantaneous. The pain in his muscles faded, his wounds healed, and even his cracked ribs mended themselves. His lips slid into a thin smile. "From that time my subordinate almost killed you."

"Ohh, right," said Goku, unperturbed by Frieza's pointed reminder of what exactly their relationship was. "Heh, you've got a pretty good memory!"

Frieza narrowed his eyes, tail flicking back and forth. "You know, I didn't actually agree to anything before you took off."

Goku frowned. "Aw, c'mon, don't be like that! I know a great place! Seriously, lemme make it up to you."

He held out the black coat, and Frieza stared at it, weighing his options. He supposed it would be sort of stupid to just leave now after having waited over twenty minutes for Goku to return, and it wasn't like he had any other plans tonight. Moreover, he did quite like the idea of Goku bending over backwards to repay the lackluster sex.

And he _was_ hungry.

He snatched the coat. _"Fine."_

* * *

It was a very nice restaurant, Frieza supposed. But however uncomfortably he'd expected this excursion to be, it somehow ended up being leagues worse.

He sat in the booth across from Goku, tail draped over the edge of the seat, occupying himself by reading and rereading the menu just to take his mind off the deeply surreal situation. It was either that or just… awkwardly stare at Goku, who had finished reading (frankly, Frieza was slightly surprised to learn he _could_ read) and sat impatiently, fidgeting, eyes fixed on Frieza.

Which was perfectly fair. Frieza did have a reputation for blowing up planets when left unsupervised. Though, honestly, Goku didn't need to worry about that right now. He wouldn't blow up Earth without a ship parked in orbit. Drifting aimlessly through the cold, suffocating void of space, unable to breathe, unable to scream, not knowing if he would ever find his way back to civilization or be lost forever, left to die a slow and agonizing death, was… not pleasant. He snapped himself out of that train of thought, and went back to scanning the menu. At least some of the food here looked perfectly edible.

Eventually, a peppy waitress arrived to take their order.

In theory.

"Goku? Is that you? I haven't seen you in ages!" Her voice was loud and sugary, and Frieza hated her already. "I was wondering why all the chefs were so… um… excited! How are the wife and kids?"

Oh, wonderful. He was a regular. They chattered, making annoying small talk as Frieza glared at them over the top of his menu, wanting this date to be over as soon as possible.

"And, uh… who… who is this?"

She gestured at Frieza, and her irritating grin crumbled the moment they made eye contact. He smiled menacingly.

Goku's demeanor went from carefree to serious. "Oh, this is, um… an old, old acquaintance of mine. We, uh. Recently reconnected."

Frieza breathed a small sigh of relief that Goku hadn't actually been stupid enough to call him a friend. If he had, he would have probably not been able to stop himself from snapping. Maybe he wouldn't destroy the whole planet, but he'd at least cause some serious property damage, and do his damn best to kill this particular waitress. Gruesomely.

She seemed to pick up on it—on the cold, dangerous aura emanating from Goku's strange dinner guest, the agitated flicking of his tail, the murderous intensity of his glare. A bead of sweat rolled down the side of her face, and with a nervous gulp she wisely decided to abandon the subject. Obviously there was some tension here.

She didn't know the half of it.

"So! Uh! Are the two of you… ready to order?"

As expected of a Saiyan, Goku ordered what seemed to be a full-course buffet. Nauseated, Frieza was tempted to just stick to water. But, he _was_ hungry, and it would be stupid to come all this way without making Goku spend any money on him.

Frieza had a set of rules he followed when dining on alien worlds with unfamiliar cuisine, developed through years of experience: don't touch anything you can't immediately identify as animal or plant-based (he was slightly afraid of this "pudding" concoction), don't eat anything plant-based unless you know what plant it came from, and stick with animal products that seem common or familiar. Eggs and seafood tended to be the most consistent, as well as alcohol. He did have some experience with Earth food already, not to mention the liquor, but he had never been the experimental sort in regard to alien dining.

Which is to say, he got the grilled salmon. And a bottle of the most expensive wine on the menu, out of pure spite.

The waitress moved to take back the menu, but Frieza snatched it away, and she scurried off with a fearful squeak. He needed something to keep his mind occupied, even if that something was just reading the menu over and over, looking at the pictures and trying to figure out _no, seriously, what the hell is a pudding, it looks like some sort of defecatory slime, do the people of this world actually eat this?_

Thankfully, Goku didn't try to force conversation. That would have been excruciating. Frieza cast the occasional glance in his direction, and noted that he was literally just twiddling his thumbs and shifting restlessly.

Eventually, he could take this no longer, and set down his menu with a sigh. "Why did you even bring me here? I'm not enjoying myself. And quite frankly, I don't think you are, either."

"Hm?" Goku met his gaze, and laughed. "Oh, thanks, but you don't need to worry about me! I'm doing just fine!"

Frieza's eyes widened. "N-No, I wasn't… never mind."

"Seriously, though, you're making too much of this," said Goku. "I invited you 'cause I felt bad and wanted to make it up to you. Besides, this whole sex thing was your idea, so I figured I oughtta say thanks somehow. It's been so much fun!"

Frieza laughed uncomfortably. "I'm… glad to hear it?"

This really hadn't gone as planned.

Under normal circumstances, taking a sex partner out to dinner would be a pretty common courtesy. But their relationship was anything but normal. Looking back on it, he… really should have foreseen this outcome as a possibility when he asked a Saiyan to sleep with him and said it would be like a battle. But he had been so focused on the thrill of having Goku at his mercy that he hadn't thought it through any deeper. And now they were having a regular affair, Goku was loving every second of it, and Frieza was in too deep to back out now.

And here they were, having _dinner_ together. If he'd known this is how things would pan out, he would have never propositioned Goku in the first place.

…No matter how much he might be enjoying this, too. The sex, that is. Not the dinner.

Finally, the food arrived.

To Goku's credit, it was actually pretty good, which he admitted when questioned. Probably better than whatever he would have grabbed if he'd just gone home, if he'd thought to eat anything at all. The wine was fantastic, and the salmon was easy enough on his stomach that he could keep it down without wanting to vomit.

Though, Goku's… voracious appetite, wasn't doing him any favors in that regard.

There were so many dishes that it took a full waiting staff multiple trips to unload them, and there wasn't even enough room on the table. They had to leave three serving carts just to hold the rest. Goku practically inhaled the food set out before him, with no regard for table manners whatsoever. Frieza couldn't look away. It was like watching a disgusting train wreck in action, and it left him deeply questioning why the _fuck_ he was consenting to sex with this specimen. Saiyans really were such an unsightly race. Goku, for his part, didn't seem to notice or care that he was being stared at, not just by Frieza, but by several other patrons as well.

Frieza sighed, and returned to cutting off bite-sized pieces of salmon with his knife and fork, elbows below the table, like a member of civilized society.

After picking at the half-eaten fish for a while, he finally just set the plate aside. Goku was almost done, so hopefully he wouldn't have to endure this for much longer.

Goku looked up at him. "Huh? You barely ate anything. Everything okay?"

A vein throbbed in Frieza's forehead. He didn't like the idea of Goku expressing concern over him. "I don't need to eat as much as you Saiyans."

That was… half-true. The full truth was this: he had been cut in half at the waist and lost most of his digestive system, which remained lost his entire time as a cyborg—unable to eat or drink, constantly wracked with phantom pain and nausea. He had been so manic, so single-mindedly hellbent on revenge after his first stay in Hell, that once his body was restored he ignored food and sleep almost entirely, relying solely on healing tanks to keep himself alive. Trying to keep down food after such a long period of functional starvation left him retching for hours, and those were hours he could spend training. Only recently had he retrained his body to stomach solids, but it was still a work in progress. The mere thought of eating still made him nauseous, and he usually just stuck to liquids so he didn't have to think about it.

So he didn't have to think about everything he'd endured that had left him in this state to begin with.

And now he was thinking about it. He felt his heart rate starting to go up, and he shakily poured himself another glass of wine.

Goku chuckled. "You should try my wife's cooking sometime! That'll fix your appetite right up!"

Frieza spat out his mouthful of wine all over the table, and broke into a violent coughing fit.

"Hey, calm down!" Goku wiped a splatter of wine off the hem of his gi. "I know it'd be weird having a villain like you over for dinner, I was just kidding around! Sure, a lot of my friends used to be villains, but…"

True as that was, quite frankly Frieza was more appalled by the idea of dining with Goku and his wife because _they were having an extramarital affair_. Maybe Goku was oblivious as to why that would be a horrendously uncomfortable situation, but Frieza was very much not. And he thought _this_ dinner date was awkward.

After a full minute of choking and wheezing, Frieza finally managed to catch his breath. He wiped his mouth, and cleared his throat. "Thank you for the… generous offer, but, ah. I believe I'll pass."

Another wave of silence passed over them, until finally the burning curiosity proved too much. Frieza needed to know. "…Okay, I _have_ to ask. What exactly is the situation between you and your wife? From what I can surmise, the two of you aren't exactly… close."

"Huh? Between me and Chi-Chi?" Goku blinked. "I mean, she's the one who runs the house and takes care of the kids—or, just Goten now, I guess—and I'm usually off training. So yeah, we don't see a whole lot of each other. I was even dead for a few years, and we didn't see each other at all then! She does her thing, and I do mine. I just get so caught up in training, y'know? She gets pretty annoyed when I'm not around, and she made me start working after I came back to life, but she's great! Yeah, she can be kinda strict, but she's done a lot to support me and the kids, and I'm grateful for her!"

"I… I see."

Frieza stared at him, tempted to prod further. How had Goku even managed to land a wife, much less keep her for what had to be over twenty years, without ever having kissed her? Not to mention how he'd somehow never learned the definition of fidelity, or his horrendous performance in the bedroom. Honestly, it sounded more like the relationship between a mother and rambunctious child than husband and wife. In the end, he decided this was a rabbit hole he'd rather not go any further down, at least for the time being. Whatever the story, obviously it was a completely passionless marriage.

And he couldn't help but feel a touch smug that Goku clearly enjoyed _him_ far, far more.

"So," said Frieza, "I believe we're about finished here, or are you going to make me wait for the check?"

"Oh, yeah!" Goku got to his feet. "Grab on, I'll take you back."

Frieza did as Goku asked, placing a hand on his forearm—not without grabbing the half-finished wine bottle, of course—but… nothing happened.

"…Um, I think we might have a problem." Goku scratched his cheek, sheepish grin splitting his features. "I, uh… can't find the planet we were on."

Frieza jerked away. "EXCUSE ME?!"

"I need to lock onto a ki signature for Instant Transmission! I don't know how to find an uninhabited planet, even if I was just there!"

"AND YOU ONLY THINK TO BRING THIS UP NOW?!"

No. No. He would absolutely not stand to be stuck on Goku's miserable speck of a planet a second longer.

"Well, I didn't think ahead! I've never been in a situation like this before!"

_"GET ME OFF THIS PLANET AT ONCE OR I WILL REDUCE IT TO SPACE DUST!!!"_

Frieza was screaming so loud that the entire restaurant was staring at them. He didn't even care.

"Wait, I have an idea!" Goku exclaimed. "I think I remember the ki of one of the guys who was with you. The little yellow one with the wide head. I can try finding him instead?"

He must have meant Kikono. There was hope. "YES. PERFECT. JUST GET ME OFF THIS PLANET."

Goku stood still for a moment that seemed to drag on for an agonizing eternity, fingers to his head, concentrating deeply. "Aha! Found him! Grab on, Frieza!"

Frieza had never grabbed onto anything faster in his life.

The next thing he knew, he was inside his flagship, the target of some very confused looks from Kikono and a few of his other high-ranking personnel. He wrenched his hand away from Goku's, visibly rattled by the ordeal.

"Whew! Crisis averted!" Goku raised his fingers back to his forehead. "Glad you liked the food! Seeya next week!"

And he was gone before Frieza could say a word.

Frieza and Kikono stared at each other, in rigid, deathly awkward silence, for a long, long while. Until, finally, Kikono cleared his throat.

"Lord Frieza, sir, what… what is that you're wearing?"

* * *

It was nightfall by the time Goku arrived back on Earth, paid the restaurant tab, and made to head back home.

"Goku! So you are here!"

With a start, he looked up. Krillin, Piccolo, and Gohan were all flying over to him, serious expressions plastered across their faces.

"Huh? What's going on?" asked Goku.

The three newcomers exchanged confused glances. Piccolo spoke up. "What are you talking about? You sensed Frieza's energy too, right?"

Oh.

_Crap._

It had somehow completely slipped his mind that _Frieza couldn't hide his power level_.

"Oh! Uh! Yeah! Frieza!" He rubbed the back of his neck, grinning nervously, looking pointedly off to the side. "Yup! I sensed him and came right over!"

"We weren't sure what to do," said Gohan. "We tried calling you, but you didn't pick up. Mom said you'd come home earlier, but headed back out. The only ones who are a match for Frieza right now are you and Vegeta, and Vegeta's off training with Whis. It was weird, like he just showed up out of nowhere. Normally, you can feel a power level like that before it even reached Earth." He looked around. "I don't sense him anymore, and it doesn't seem like there was a battle. What happened?"

Goku thought fast. "Oh, y'know! He was lurking around, up to no good! I don't think he was looking for a fight, though. As soon as he saw me, he hightailed it outta there! I reckon he was after the Dragon Balls again, or something."

"The Dragon Balls?" said Krillin. "But it hasn't been a year yet."

"Come to think of it, does he even know how long it takes before they can grant another wish?" asked Piccolo.

"Oh, yeah, that's a good point," said Krillin. "Why would he come himself, though? Last time he wanted the Dragon Balls, he specifically sent low-level warriors so we wouldn't sense them!"

Gohan looked at his feet. "I guess there's no use speculating right now. Let's just be grateful he left without hurting anyone, and keep an eye out for whatever he might be planning."

And with that, they parted ways.

Once he was alone, Goku breathed a heavy sigh of relief. That had been way, way too close.

* * *

Frieza, for his part, was not the least bit bothered to learn this meant there would be no more dinner dates.


	6. Chapter 6

"Hey," Trunks said to Goten, "is your dad coming?"

Goten shuffled his feet. "I dunno… he said he'd come, and I know he's not training with Whis. But he's been working a lot lately."

Right on cue, there was a knock at the door. Goten's face lit up. "That must be Dad!"

He rushed over to answer the door. Goku stood just outside, smiling broadly, awkwardly carrying a very large present.

"Happy birthday, Goten! Sorry I'm late!" With his free hand, he ruffled Goten's hair. "How old are you now?"

Goten beamed. "Thirteen!"

"Wow! You're getting so big!"

"I'm still pretty small, I think…" Goten flushed, cheeks tinged nervous pink.

"Huh? Really?" Goku set down the oversized present with a thud. "I was about as big as you at your age… but come to think of it, you _are_ older than Gohan was when he fought Cell!"

"My dad said something about that once," said Trunks. "He said the speed Saiyan kids grow up depends on how much adversity they face during childhood. Which is _bullshit!_ I fought Buu, I wanna be tall already!"

"Trunks!" snapped Chi-Chi. "Language!"

Trunks pouted, and crossed his arms.

Goten peered at the large giftbox, finger to his lip. "Dad, is it okay if I open your present last? I'm still opening my other presents, and I want to be fair to everyone else."

"Sure, no prob!" Goku picked it back up, then stopped in the doorway. "Uhh… I don't think it'll fit. I'll just leave it out here until you're ready!"

He set it back down, and followed Goten inside the house, where a sizable but modest assortment of colorful presents were gathered. A few were opened already, and a pile of various toys and other gifts lay by the couch, as well as a waste bin overflowing with wrapping paper.

Marron trotted over to him, holding out a large, lumpy parcel. "Open mine next! Open mine next!"

"Sure!" Goten tore off the wrapping paper, and gasped in delight. "A stuffed kitty!" He squeezed it to his chest—it was almost as big as he was. "It's so cute, I love it! Thank you so much, Marron!"

He continued through the remaining presents, one by one—a set of superhero comics from Gohan; a cool new video game from Yamcha; a Lego set from Krillin and 18; lots of clothes and other practical gifts from Chi-Chi, but also a sleek new laptop, which he hugged and thanked her for. And from Trunks…

"Is this… a PlayCapsule 5?!"

"Yup!" Trunks grinned. "These things aren't even on the market yet! I went ahead and loaded it with a bunch of cool games we can play together, too! I'm so excited!"

Goten threw his arms around him, and Trunks let out a flustered noise of surprise, but then settled into the embrace. "H-Hey, don't get so mushy, it's lame…"

With a laugh, Goten let him go. "Sorry, Trunks. That just leaves Dad's present! C'mon, let's go see what it is!"

He headed outside, followed by the other party guests and his parents, and began tearing open the oversized present.

And he screamed in delight.

_"You got me a dirt bike!?"_

"Sure did!" said Goku. "I saw your bike was getting kinda worn down, so I got you the coolest one I could find! Hope you like it!"

"Whoa! That is _so awesome!_ " Trunks poked at the box. "Goten, we've gotta go bike riding in the mountains sometime!"

Goten jumped into his father's outstretched arms, and Goku spun him around, hugging him close.

"Thank you so much! It's the coolest thing ever! I love you, Dad!"

"I love you, too, Goten!"

He set him down, and Goten scurried off to unbox his new bike, accompanied by Trunks, the pair of them starry-eyed and dying to give it a test ride as soon as possible.

There was, however, one person who seemed less than enthused.

"…Gohan, sweetie," said Chi-Chi, "would you mind cutting the cake for everyone? Your father and I need to talk."

Goku gulped.

Gohan and Goten offered him looks of sympathy as he left, following Chi-Chi into the bedroom, well away from everybody else, in grim silence. Once they were alone, she shut the door behind them, and turned to face her husband.

"Goku, how… how much did that bike cost?"

Goku let out a harsh, nervous laugh, sweat forming along his brow. "Umm… I think it was about… a million zeni?"

Chi-Chi's soul left her body in an instant. She stood, dead-eyed and twitching, for a long, uncomfortable moment. "A… a m-million… zeni…" Then, she snapped herself out of her daze, and her face contorted in rage. _"YOU SPENT A MILLION ZENI ON A MOTORBIKE FOR OUR SON?!?! WHAT'D YOU GO AND DO SOMETHING LIKE THAT FOR?!?!"_

Goku held up his hands, backing away. "H-Hey, I thought he needed a new bike!"

"YES! A NEW BIKE! THAT IS NOT A BIKE! THAT IS A MONSTER ON WHEELS! YOU BUY HIM A BIKE LIKE THAT, AND NEXT THING YOU KNOW HE'S GONNA BE GETTING TATTOOS AND WEARING HIS HAIR ALL POOFY AND JOINING A GANG! _I WON'T ALLOW IT!!!"_

"He really liked it, though!" Goku protested. "I don't think he's going to go joining a gang just because he has a new bike! I just wanted to get him something cool…"

A glimmer of sympathy softened Chi-Chi's features, and her rage subsided for a moment, but then she narrowed her eyes. _"We don't have the money to go spending it on fancy stuff like that willy-nilly!"_

"I've been working, though! And we still have most of that money I got from Mister Satan! I don't see what the problem is!"

Chi-Chi put a hand to her forehead. "Look, it's great that you wanted to do something nice for our son, and I don't mind you participating in our household finances more. But _you are not responsible with money._ We have bills to pay, mouths to feed! Goten's gonna be college age soon, and that'll cost millions! What if there's another emergency like that time you smashed up our house?! Or medical bills—do you know how much it cost to pay for Gohan's therapy after you went and died on us?! Senzu Beans can't fix everything! A farmer's wage isn't enough to cover all that! _Why didn't you think to ask me if this kind of purchase was okay?!"_

He… may have deliberately avoided talking to her about it, precisely because he knew she would disapprove. "Sorry…"

Chi-Chi sighed. "Goku, you've been in a weird mood lately," she said. "You've always been reckless and irresponsible, but it's not like you to blow this much money. And it's not just the bike, either! I saw the invoice from Clair de Lune! You never go anywhere fancy like that on your own! And let's talk about the bill! The food, sure, you always order enough to feed a small army, but what was up with the bottle of Bordeaux? It cost more than everything else you ordered put together! Since when do you even _drink_ wine?! And don't think I haven't noticed all those gis in the wash cycle! I don't mind you going off and doing your own thing so long as you keep doing your part around here, but… if something is going on, please. Tell me what it is."

She looked at him pleadingly, and Goku didn't know how to answer. Obviously something _was_ going on, but he hadn't realized he was acting any different.

He supposed it made sense, though. Of course he was in a good mood. Ever since he'd come back to life after the fight against Buu, life had… slowed down. His adventure in Otherworld was over, and Earth was no longer in constant danger. He'd gotten so strong that there just weren't any challenging opponents left, and he was bored, restless. Training with Vegeta and Whis took the edge off, but it wasn't the same as an all-out battle. He craved that intensity, that excitement, enough that he was willing to hire Hit to kill him, or risk the fate of the multiverse by reminding the Omni-Kings about the universal tournament, despite Beerus's warning. Even if they had been considering eliminating the lower universes anyway, it was only in the abstract. They were in no immediate danger, until Goku stirred the pot.

And that led to Frieza.

Looking back on it, the battle with Frieza on Namek was the single greatest, most thrilling fight of Goku's life. Never before, or since, had he been pushed so hard, gotten so angry, against such a terrifying foe in an all-out, one-on-one deathmatch. It was the perfect battle, against the perfect enemy, intense enough to awaken the power of the Super Saiyan. There had been plenty of powerful foes and exciting battles since, but Frieza had shaped his growth as a warrior more profoundly than anyone else. Even now, whenever he went Super Saiyan, it was by tapping into that rage he'd felt on Namek.

Back then, he'd respected Frieza as a warrior, but meant it when he said he never wanted to see him again. But as the years went on, as life slowed to an uncomfortably comfortable pace, he couldn't stop himself from reminiscing. From wishing he _could_ fight another enemy like Frieza again.

And there was no enemy quite as much like Frieza as Frieza himself.

It was a strange situation. Goku was no stranger to teaming up with old enemies, but… it was different with Frieza. It wasn't as if Goku still actively hated him; if Frieza ever showed any desire to change his ways, Goku would hold no grudge and accept him with open arms. But he got the sense that wasn't ever going to happen. More than that, though, Frieza wasn't just evil to the core—he was _dangerous_ , in a way not even Vegeta was when he'd first started living on Earth. He had no scruples, no fetters, and wanted nothing more than to see Goku dead. It was _fantastic._ Every weekend was like Namek all over again, and it was exactly the sort of thrill Goku had been craving for years.

Yes, it was dangerous. Frieza was dangerous. That was the whole appeal.

Chi-Chi would disapprove for sure, but it would be fine.

He knew how to handle Frieza.

"You don't need to worry about me, Chi-Chi! Everything's fine!"

For a moment, she said nothing. Then, she smiled. "Alright. I trust you."

* * *

They clashed.

Each blow was a deafening crack in the sky, each zip through the air a break in the sound barrier. They stood on opposite cliffs above crashing waves, staring each other down at full power, smirking, panting, bruised and battered but ki crackling, energy surging, blood racing.

Goku charged, and Frieza matched him, meeting his offense head-on with perfect guard, counterattack blocked in turn, escalating to a thunderous flurry of blows. Each attack was precise like lightning, each parry electric impulse. Then they separated, and clashed again, one burst of passion after another, building and building as they each sought their opening.

Frieza made to grab Goku with his tail, but Goku caught him. He yelped, but before he could react was spun around, fast enough to lock his limbs by sheer centripetal force, until finally the momentum crashed him into Goku's chest and he found himself pinned. He scowled, and struggled, but it was futile.

Goku grinned. "I win this round!"

With his free hand he pulled down his pants, and eagerly prodded between Frieza's legs. Then he stopped, and prodded again, confusion growing. "Huh? Wait, how do I… where's your…?"

Frieza breathed an exasperated sigh. "My golden form is fully armored below the waist, you imbecile."

"What?!" Goku cried. "That's not fair!"

"Oh, please, forgive me, _Goku_ , for not exactly _having your sexual pleasure in mind when designing it!"_

"Okay, but, isn't that inconvenient?" Goku scratched his head. "I mean, what about when you need to take a leak?"

Frieza's mouth fell open. "I… I cannot believe we are actually having this conversation. Just for that, I'm not shedding the armor." He seized the lull in Goku's guard, elbowing him in the solar plexus and breaking out of his grapple, weaving behind him and grabbing him with his tail. "You let your guard down."

Goku struggled, but soon fell limp in Frieza's grasp. "Heh… damn it…"

Frieza pulled him closer, cupping his jaw, wrenching it aside to give his neck a teasing, seductive lick. Goku's breathing was labored already, and when Frieza reached to grab his cock, he noted it was already hard. He hadn't even touched him yet.

And it drove Frieza wild.

"Oh my, aren't we eager today?" he purred, starting with slow, deliberate strokes.

Goku chuckled breathily. "Maybe… maybe I am…"

"Well then," said Frieza, "if you're obedient, how about I reward you with my mouth today?" For emphasis, he suckled teasingly at the salty, sweat-slicked skin of his neck.

Goku let out a shaky exhale, pulse quickening, growing hotter and firmer beneath Frieza's fingertips at the mere prospect of getting head. "R-Really? I'm… _ngh_ … kinda tempted…"

Frieza smirked. "Would you mind going back into your base form for me, then? As I said, I'm not shedding my armor, and there's only so much I can do otherwise."

Goku complied, hair turning from blue to black, ki settling, and Frieza released his own golden transformation in turn.

"Very good. Now…" He gave his cock a firm squeeze, relishing the way Goku shuddered against him, and leaned in to whisper in his ear. "What do we say?"

_"Please."_

The word was music to his ears, coiling arousal tight within his abdomen. Frieza pushed him to the ground, slowly stroking his erection all the while, and found him quite pliable to being flipped onto his back, legs spread to allow Frieza full access, throbbing in excitement, already soaked in precum. Frieza knelt between his thighs and swirled his tongue around the head, spasms erupting through Goku's muscles that signaled he was already too close to finishing for Frieza's taste. He was so excited that Frieza feared he would come just from the sound of his voice. Thrilling as that idea was, he was nowhere near done with him.

Frieza withdrew, leaving his cock red and aching. He pulled himself upwards, fully on top of Goku, and slammed his fist into his jaw, tightening his tail into a suffocating death grip. Goku gasped, coughing up a mouthful of blood, rhythm ground to a screeching halt.

"Don't think I'll be so merciful as to let you finish this soon," Frieza said, smiling coyly. "I'm just getting started."

Goku cocked a smirk, mouth stained with blood. "Wouldn't dream of it."

Frieza smiled wider, lips parting to show teeth, and for a moment he did nothing but hold Goku's gaze. Then he returned, slinking between his legs, slipping his cock fully into his mouth. Goku moaned, shuddering, thrusting into him to the best of his ability, fully at Frieza's mercy. Frieza began sucking, teasing the underside with his tongue, massaging with his fingertips, every gasp and moan and throb of arousal pulsing electric down his spine, sending him further and further over the edge.

But he still had the presence of mind to pace himself. When Goku moaned an impassioned cry, when his pelvic muscles clenched in signal of climax, Frieza interrupted the rhythm with a stab to his inner thigh, driving his nails into his flesh. Goku gasped in pain, blood pooling around Frieza's fingertips, dripping to the soft ground. It was warm—warmer than his own body temperature, the heat against his skin roiling his arousal to a boiling fever pitch. He licked his fingers, staining his lips red, rolling the copper taste around his tongue. Then he lowered his head, painting Goku's cock with his mouth and his own inner thighs with his fingers, letting the intensity build slowly, painfully, delightfully, balancing just on the edge.

"F-Frieza…"

The sound of his name on Goku's lips spiraled into orgasmic ecstasy.

He let himself wonder—with Goku in this state of desperate, delirious arousal, how far could he go?

So the next time he felt the twitching of Goku's incoming climax, Frieza yanked his balls, _hard_ , fingertips sizzling with electrifying ki.

Goku screeched in pain, recoiling from Frieza with a massive burst of energy, enough to transform to Super Saiyan Blue Kaioken and break free of Frieza's grapple. Frieza yelped sharply, stumbling backwards, barely landing on his feet.

"OWWWWWW!!!! WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!" Goku cried, clutching his balls.

Frieza stared, slack-jawed. "Uh… well, you see, I was trying to—"

"DON'T DO THAT!!!"

Frieza let out a disappointed sigh. He supposed he couldn't have everything. "Oh, _very well."_

For a long while they stood there, staring at each other in awkward silence, before Frieza finally cleared his throat. "So, ah." He gestured towards Goku's still very hard cock. "Do you want me to continue, or are we…?"

"Huh? No, uh." Goku released his transformation. "Keep going."

Still rattled, Frieza walked back over and returned to his position between Goku's legs. Though the mood was ruined, he managed to find his pace again. Goku was unrestrained, but still quite compliant, and that freed up Frieza's tail to fuck him from behind, coated in his own slick, bloodstained arousal. He slashed his nails down Goku's thighs to keep him just on the edge, until he felt his own climax approaching and finally allowed Goku the mercy of sweet, thunderous release. Frieza spat out his come, splattering it across his chest, and with a delightful shudder finished to the sight of Goku lying beneath him, covered in blood and bruises and his own fluids.

There was something deeply gratifying about this little affair of theirs. It was one thing to exploit Goku's naivete and force him to his knees, but now he was an active, experienced, enthusiastic, and _addicted_ player. He got hard at the mere thought of Frieza having his way with him, and didn't even hesitate to say "please" and "thank you."

It was a bit twisted, for someone like Goku to not only willingly, but eagerly, let Frieza sink his claws into him. Perhaps he was unaware of the taboo of extramarital sex, but he knew damn well how dangerous Frieza was. He knew full well that his friends and family would not approve of their trysts, yet was more than happy to keep it their dirty little secret. For all that Goku may have been a good person, a hero, a Saiyan was a Saiyan, and it turned out to be a strange mix. He had a wife, friends, children, and yet here he was, choosing _him_ , spreading his legs for the tyrant who had annihilated his race—all in the name of a good time.

And it occurred to Frieza, as he stared down at his quarry, battered and wheezing beneath his fingertips, that he rather liked this twisted side of Goku.

…Wait.

_What?_

He snapped himself to his senses. Thrilling or not, this was still Son Goku. This was still the man who had defeated him, humiliated him, single-handedly ruined his life. Perhaps it was not by Goku's hand that he first died, but it was by his hand that he first fell, and that was the exact moment everything started going wrong. Everything he had endured these past eighteen years— _everything_ —could be attributed to Goku in some way, shape, or form. Goku was a mere insect, a _Saiyan_ at that, nothing but a lower life form who needed to be put back in his place. Neither the role he had played in his latest revival, nor the fact that he was a surprisingly good fuck, did absolutely anything to change that.

Frieza stood up, a little too quickly, careful to keep his features from betraying any turbulence beneath the surface. Not that Goku had the presence of mind to notice, off on his post-orgasmic cloud nine as he was wont to do.

"That will be all for today," said Frieza, hands folded behind his back, voice even. With a flick of his tail, he added, "Thank you for the good time."

And he headed back to his ship, mind racing and blood rushing in his ears.

* * *

The layer of white noise separating Frieza from the material world felt even thicker than usual. Normally after an encounter with Goku, he would pour himself a glass of wine and try to get some sleep. But as he held the glass to his lips, it shook ever so slightly. He narrowed his eyes, and set it down by his bedside with a scowl. In this state, with unstable frenetic energy coursing through his veins, alcohol was never sufficient to will himself into a state approaching rest. He stood up, and exhaled deeply, then turned on heel and left the room, in the direction of his training chamber.

He didn't like training before bed, because training before bed meant sleeping in a healing tank. As much as he hated being conscious in healing tanks, sleeping in them was worse. The feeling of his body being suspended in cold healing liquid was one permanently associated with the lowest moments of his life, the memories etched into his bones. His nightmares were never as intense, as graphic, as inescapable.

But maybe that was exactly what he needed right now.


	7. Chapter 7

"Aw, c'mon! I said 'please'!"

"Why, exactly, are you so insistent on this?" Frieza asked, arms crossed, tail thrashing.

"I just wanna try it! You had me go Super Saiyan our first time, I wanna take a shot at your golden form, too!" Goku folded his arms in turn. "And don't think I don't know exactly why you had me transform for you."

Frieza narrowed his eyes. He'd hoped Goku's mind had been too clouded by arousal to put two and two together there. Not that it mattered.

Goku put his hands together in a pleading motion. "So, c'mon, _please?"_

As much as Frieza enjoyed dangling Goku's pleasure like a carrot on a stick, making him squirm and do as he pleased like a circus monkey putting on a show, he didn't know how to feel about this. Goku didn't have any way of sexually conquering his golden form without express permission, and he kind of wanted to keep it that way. But here he was, asking very nicely for that permission.

And he did so like it when Goku said please.

Frieza remained silent, pondering the request, and Goku continued. "Come on, you act untouchable, but I know how to get you going when I take the lead! And I won't leave you hanging, I promise!"

True, Goku was getting better at pleasing him. He was at a disadvantage, lacking a tail and not being allowed to use his mouth, but he was getting good at using his fingers, learning to read Frieza's signals. And he knew better now than to just stick his cock in at the first opportunity. Frieza still preferred taking the lead himself, of course, but it wouldn't be fun if Goku didn't provide a challenge. And it wouldn't be a challenge if he had his way every time.

Then, Goku smirked. "Unless you're just afraid you'll like it too much."

Oh, that did it.

With an amused chuckle and a coy flick of his tail, Frieza uncrossed his arms. "Fine. I accept your challenge. Of course, there's no guarantee that you'll be able to do as you please!"

He assumed his battle stance, one leg behind the other, and summoned a golden inferno of energy that surged through his limbs in a blinding flash of light, painting his body with the dramatic colors of his true power. But unlike his usual golden transformation, his legs were bare, the same shade of gold as his upper body. He sighed. He felt strangely naked, which was perhaps a strange thing for him to feel. He was no more exposed than his regular final form, but all the same.

Goku grinned. "Perfect! My turn!"

His hair flickered from black to blue as he summoned his godly power, aura flaring to life around his body, and widened his stance in turn. They stared each other down, smirks plastered across their faces, air crackling electric with anticipation.

"Well, then," said Frieza. "Whenever you're ready."

Goku chuckled, grin widening, and charged. His fist crashed against Frieza's guard with such force to rip a shockwave through the sky around them, a nearby rock formation fracturing to jagged chunks in its wake. The rest of the world faded away, and time stood still. Then Frieza countered, and Goku parried his kick, locking him into a lightning fast flurry of blows, as familiar and intimate as a dance.

Goku took the initial skirmish and launched Frieza backwards with a powerful body slam. But he bent his knees, held his guard, and when Goku flashed behind him with a kick to his head he blocked it flawlessly, catching his ankle with his tail, and flung him into a pile of jagged metal with a crash. The dust cleared, and for a moment Goku lay there, cheek nicked, and smirked. Then he hopped to his feet and jumped, flew, fired a volley of ki blasts. Frieza dodged, and Goku pursued, into another clash of fists.

Frieza seized his window, and slammed his knee downward into Goku's stomach, crashing him to the ground. He pursued, and shot out his hand to pin him by the neck. Goku struggled beneath him, and Frieza gave his chin a teasing tail flick. Lips curling, centimeters apart, he whispered, "I win."

Goku's smirk didn't falter. He clenched his fists. "Kai… o… ken!"

Red aura burst through his body, and before Frieza could react Goku screamed and broke free, smashing his fist into Frieza's gut. Frieza's balance faltered, and Goku knocked him to the ground, slamming him to the dirt below with the full weight of his body.

He climbed on top of him. "You let your guard down."

Frieza ground his teeth together, the sharp taste of metal filling his mouth. "Damn you _…_ "

And then Goku's free hand was between his legs, prodding in search of his seam-like opening. It didn't take long. The corners of his mouth twitched as the tip of his index finger came into contact, and he began roughly teasing him open, nudging and prodding. A hiss of air escaped Frieza's clenched teeth when his warm fingertip pushed through.

But Goku was at an inherent disadvantage. He didn't have a tail. He couldn't keep Frieza fully restrained in this position while making use of his hands.

The moment Goku's guard lulled Frieza struck, seizing him with his tail, catching him by surprise and throwing off his balance, enough to crash him to the ground and mount him. He'd only managed to grapple one of Goku's arms, and had to pin the other manually, aura crackling against his skin. With only one hand free, tail occupied, and mouth too far to be of any use, there wasn't much he could do while keeping Goku restrained. He gripped the fabric of Goku's pants with his foot and yanked it down, fingering himself as he straddled his waist, grinding against Goku's growing erection. The arousal began to build, and his breath fell labored from his lips. A pyrrhic victory, but victory nonetheless.

He ground against Goku, harder and harder, friction lessening and pace quickening, coating them both in slick arousal, holding eye contact, breath hot and heavy on each other's lips. Then he took him in, and let out a shuddering gasp as the heat of his cock filled him. His guard lulled, and Goku took advantage, bucking his legs with enough strength to knock Frieza off and slam his back to the ground, cracking against a painful snag of rock. Frieza gritted his teeth, blood trickling from his mouth, as Goku thrust into him. But he only had one free arm, and could only pin one of Frieza's. Frieza locked his legs around Goku's waist, driving him in deeper, and through the thickening fog of passion summoned all the strength in his body to rake his nails down Goku's back at full force. The tearing of flesh, the feverish heat of blood on Frieza's fingertips, burned through his body into an inferno of sadistic ecstasy. Goku gasped in pain and lurched forward, rhythm interrupted, allowing Frieza to tighten his hips, twist him around, and reverse their positions once more.

He stared down at Goku's face, bruised from impact and blood pooling at the corners of his mouth, and kissed him ravenously, fucking him faster and harder, biting his lip, the scalding taste of iron driving him into a mad frenzy. Ecstasy surged through him, and he gasped, released his hold of Goku's arm to shove his hand between his legs. Goku punched him full in the face, cracking a few molars, and the taste of blood grew ever more dizzying. He flipped him over, lower lip still strapped painfully between Frieza's teeth, and drove his cock in harder and deeper, gasping, panting, scrabbling desperately, grip slicked with sweat and blood, flushed head to toe with fiery, desperate arousal, hot and throbbing against Frieza's insides. Frieza screamed in passion as Goku thrust into him at full force, hips straining and tightening against him.

But it wasn't over yet.

They brawled through the ruinous wasteland, wrestling control back and forth, auras crackling, bodies hot and feverish with pain and excitement and arousal coursing through their veins, gasping and clawing and fucking like wild animals. Pure instinct took over as they countered each other's rhythms into a discordant equilibrium of peaks and valleys, building and building as the frenzied struggle for dominance reached its apex, and, _and_ —

Release.

The world went white. The climax came so ferocious that it sapped all the remaining strength in their bodies, melting away their transformations. Frieza's tail gave out, and Goku collapsed, rolling off to the side, absolutely spent. And there they lay, battered head to toe, caked in each other's blood and sweat and come, barely conscious, gasping for oxygen.

"Th… that was…" Goku paused to yawn, "incredible…"

Frieza barely even processed that Goku had spoken, mind still ringing from aftershock, senses fogged by red haze, breath shallow, chest heaving, heart pounding, blood racing, too exhausted to move, no presence of mind to think. Certainly no presence of mind to find it worrying that Goku was able to leave him in a state like this.

Or to even try to deny that it was, indeed, _fucking incredible_.

He didn't know how long he lay there, next to Goku, mind blank and world blurred. It could have been as few as five minutes or as long as an hour.

Finally, Goku broke the silence.

"Y'know… Frieza…" he managed between gasps, "I've been… thinking… lately…"

The sound of Goku's voice pierced the mental fog enough for Frieza to think that sounded dreadful, but not enough for him to actually say it. His voice came labored. "What's this… about…?"

"About how… I wonder if I… should feel… grateful to you…"

Whatever Frieza expected him to say, it was not that. He felt himself begin to sober. "For… for the _sex?"_

Goku breathed a chuckle, and pulled himself into an unsteady seated position. "Well, sure… the sex has been amazing. It's always a blast fighting you. But I actually meant… you're the reason I'm living on Earth. You're the reason I ever managed to get this strong. If it weren't for you, I'd never be living the life I am today."

His words were a stake that pierced Frieza to the core.

_That's…_

"T-That's absurd," he said on impulse.

Was it?

And even if it was, did that necessarily mean it was wrong?

Goku chuckled again. "Heh… yeah, I guess it is kinda silly. It's not like you meant for things to turn out this way. But still, it is what it is, huh? So… thanks."

Frieza opened his mouth, but words refused to form. This was the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard, so why…?

He forced himself to his feet. "Well. I think we're done here for today," he said, gaze averted. "Until next time."

And so he returned to his ship, shadowed by the sound of Goku's words reverberating through his skull.

* * *

_I wonder if I should feel grateful to you. If it weren't for you, I'd never be living the life I am today._

The words had taken root, and nothing could shake them from Frieza's mind.

Sleep did not come easily. He tried drinking, more than he was usually comfortable with, but that somehow made it worse. Though his brain was too fogged to dwell on the specifics, the alcohol also drowned out everything else, leaving him nowhere to hide from the inescapable echo of Goku's words.

Because the problem wasn't how it made him feel. The problem was that the longer he thought about it, the more he realized that not only was Goku right, but that it was _mutual_. Minus the gratitude, of course—unlike Goku, Frieza's life was nothing but worse for having him in it. But that was exactly why he couldn't deny it, because he already blamed Goku for everything wrong in his life. He just hadn't thought about it any deeper than being the reason Goku needed to die, and now he was forced to do exactly that.

Goku was not a phenomenon sprung fully formed from the void, but a cosmic mistake of Frieza's own making. If he'd never destroyed Planet Vegeta, Goku would have never grown up on Earth. If Goku had never grown up on Earth, not only would he have never become strong enough to defeat Frieza, but Frieza would have never discovered the Dragon Balls in the first place—the whole reason they came into conflict. If Frieza hadn't dragged out the battle, hadn't killed Goku's Earthling friend, Goku would have never fulfilled the legend of the Super Saiyan. Frieza would have never been knocked from his pedestal atop the universe, and Goku would have never gone on to even greater heights, challenging the gods of the multiverse themselves.

Everything Goku was, everything he had ever done, could in some way, shape, or form be traced back to Frieza's own actions or influence.

Unsettling as this was to think about, what disturbed Frieza more was the reverse. Goku was responsible for the hardships he'd faced since Namek, but what about aside from that? Even before Goku had been _born,_ he'd always had a strange premonition about the Saiyans, and the legend of the Super Saiyan in particular. So strong was this premonition that it led him to destroy a perfectly good supply of soldiers and resources. Yes, there had been other factors in Planet Vegeta's destruction, including a polite request from Lord Beerus himself, but those were just excuses. The inescapable fact was that Frieza had destroyed Planet Vegeta because he feared the Super Saiyan. But why? There were plenty of fanciful stories throughout the cosmos about legendary warriors or deities of unfathomable power, so why had this one struck such a strange nerve? Why had he sensed that there was not only truth to the legend, but that it would become directly relevant to his own life?

At the time, he'd dismissed it as irrational nonsense, and leaned on other reasons to justify why he saw fit to rid the universe of the Saiyans. But in hindsight, it was definitely not nonsense. And in hindsight, that first inkling of fear, that first crack in his armor, had guided more of his actions than the annihilation of the Saiyans.

To a degree, anyway. Even as a very young child who had never heard of the Saiyans he'd always been abnormally cold and cruel, and ambitious to a fault. There was nothing to blame for that other than innate nature, tempered by… familial complications. But that spark of fear had developed into a flame of terror, a flame that molded him, forged him into a paranoid, untouchable menace, hellbent on staying above the rest of the universe at any cost.

A flame that would produce Son Goku.

And that wasn't even the end of it. Goku was the reason he fell from grace, but also the reason he broke out his complacency, attained a level of strength rivaling the gods he'd feared since childhood. Goku was the reason he had died, suffered in Hell for almost twenty years, but also the reason he lived today. Yes, Goku had been directly responsible for his revival, but more than that—his burning hatred for Goku had been the reason he survived Hell in the first place. Hatred was the friend that kept him from surrendering, kept his sense of self intact while restrained in that damn cocoon for so, _so_ long, so horrifically, unimaginably long, sanity slowly picked apart by what was either a deeply misguided attempt to redeem his soul or an actual fucking cosmic joke.

Hatred had sustained him. Hatred had nourished him. So ferocious had been his will to enact vengeance on Son Goku that he had been prepared to persist until the heat death of the universe and rule the ashes that remained.

It was nothing short of a miracle that he had been revived, not just once, but twice. And yet now that he lived again, determined as he was to keep it that way, it still didn't feel completely real. Of all the nightmares, the ones where he woke up back in Hell to find it was all just a dream were the worst of them all.

And so he stopped drinking altogether. Alcohol was his only weapon against the pain, the horrific memories that left him no respite, but pain was a familiar foe. Pain he could handle, pain he could channel into anger and hate, both of which he knew. Both of which he could control.

But the longer Goku's words echoed through his mind, the stronger the feeling that he was staring into the abyss.


	8. Chapter 8

"There have been more reports of rebellion from Planet Frieza 6, what do you suggest we… Lord Frieza? Lord Frieza, are you listening?"

Berryblue's voice pierced through the storm in his mind, snapping him back to reality. Try as he did, Frieza couldn't hide his features jolting, his eyes visibly refocusing as he returned to the present.

He cleared his throat. "Yes. Please, continue."

Berryblue sighed. "Is something the matter, my Lord? You've been very… distracted, as of late."

Yes, something _was_ the matter. A lot was the matter, actually.

Firstly, the immediate problem: the state of the Frieza Force. The sudden deaths of himself, his father, and the majority of exceptional fighters under his command had thrown not just his empire, but the entire universe, into complete crisis. The most powerful political and military force in the cosmos had been decapitated with no clear succession of leadership, and chaos took hold immediately. Someone had to fill Frieza's shoes, and many tried—many who were no less cruel or ambitious, but far, _far_ less competent. It was just one violent transition of power to the next, the devastating vacuum of Frieza's absence leaving a higher body count than all the years he had personally ruled. Everyone with aspirations of power had tried to scramble to the top of the totem pole at once, and there was only so much weight it could hold before collapsing altogether. Swaths of territory split away at the first opportunity, cannibalizing each other, tearing themselves apart under unstable government and burning out as quickly as they'd formed. Entire solar systems had been lost to the fires of civil war—some of which had never even been part of Frieza's territory in the first place, but were unfortunate enough to be caught in the crossfire.

By the end of it all, only _twenty-eight_ distinct spacefaring civilizations remained, where there had once been hundreds under Frieza's command alone. The Galactic Patrol was completely useless, as always. Bribery alone was enough to make them turn a blind eye to even the worst atrocities.

The Planet Trade Organization split into at least five distinct factions vying for power, some of which split off into their own organizations, none of which lasted. Any attempt to consolidate power ended in swift assassination or outright war, and the Frieza Force itself only survived by retreating from the galactic stage to focus on maintaining its core territories. Quite frankly, it made Frieza laugh, that they had been so lost without him that they kept using his name almost two decades after his death. He’d held the entire universe in an iron vice grip, ruling through bottomless terror and knifelike bureaucracy. It wasn’t even just his raw power. Nobody else had the stomach to rule like Frieza. Of course they’d needed him back.

It… maybe hadn't been the wisest course of action, to immediately charge into battle and throw the remains of his empire into further ruin. In his defense, he wasn't exactly in the soundest state of mind after having been trapped in Hell for almost twenty years. But it wasn't mere blind rage that guided his actions. The reason he'd been able to hold such absolute control was that he'd always been unchallenged, untouchable, to the point where it was futile to even dream of defeating him. How was he supposed to return to that life, knowing the one who defeated him still drew breath? He couldn't truly live again, not until that error was rectified.

This time, he was more concerned with staying alive, _period,_ to the point where he was willing to rearrange his priorities. But the immaculate pillar of ice had broken, and there was no fixing it. He couldn't command the same authority he once had. Though still the same ruthless tyrant as ever, stronger than ever, absolute power and absolute authority were not one and the same. People had forgotten why they had feared him, why the mere mention of his name had once been a threat. He had been defeated before, and that meant he was fallible, vincible—not an unstoppable force of nature, but a mere mortal who had been overcome before and could be overcome again. It was just one annoyance after another, insubordination and rebellion rampant and constant, despite the consequences being the same as ever.

Try as he did to pick up the pieces, of his rule, of his life, the glue refused to hold. And it was growing more and more infuriating with every passing day.

But the bigger problem wasn't that he couldn't control the world around him. He couldn't even control _himself_. No matter how often he was in and out of healing tanks, his mind refused to heal, to fully grasp that Namek and Hell and everything in between were in the past. That the torment was over. That he was alive. His physical wounds had long healed, but the vestigial pain and fear always lurked two steps around the corner, ready to strike the moment he stopped moving, the moment he let his guard down, as if his own psyche were trying harder to destroy him than any foe he'd ever faced.

And he had no idea how to make it stop. He didn't even know if he _could_ make it stop, the mere memory of what he'd endured corroding him like acid, the panacea of revenge always beyond his grasp. It was his only hope. But if he could just kill Goku so easily and be done with it, he wouldn't be in this situation to begin with.

Until then, he was powerless to stop his mind from destroying itself from the inside out. Alcohol numbed the pain and stress, but not the impending crisis. Staying sober helped stave off crisis, but not the pain and stress. Pain and stress he knew well, but he couldn't handle another mental break. He couldn't. He knew how they always ended for him, and the mere thought of dying again was… he couldn't even handle thinking about it.

Either way, all roads led back to Goku.

And he didn't know how much more he could take.

Not that telling Berryblue would fix anything. Acknowledging the problem would just give it more power, and he couldn't even put the storm to words in the first place.

"I'm _fine,"_ he snapped. Then he took a deep breath, composing himself, and chuckled malevolently. "There really have been more rebellions than usual as of late, haven't there? Set a course for Planet Frieza 6. I believe it's high time we reminded the universe why the mere mention of my name is a threat."

Planet Frieza 6 was one of the core planets of his empire, an economic and military stronghold whose loss would be felt far more heavily than that of Planet Vegeta. But there was nothing else to be done.

Blowing up planets always did have a way of making Frieza feel better.

* * *

Training was a fantastic way for Frieza to keep himself moving, to the point where he started slipping back into old patterns. He ignored food and sleep, pushing himself as far as his body could handle and then further still, until he was physically unable to keep going.

He was starting to get the hang of Hakai energy, sort of. He could summon it at will, he was getting used to the deep, squeezing, burning sensation of his ki being converted to pure destructive power, enough to channel into a fist-sized ball of swirling black and purple. But it was unstable. Just keeping it materialized for a matter of seconds was utter agony, energy screaming through his veins to tear him apart from the inside out. And then, time and time again, no matter how well he could withstand the pain, it would always explode in his face.

Just like everything else since Namek.

Not that it would deter him. He gritted his teeth, pulled himself to his feet, and conjured another. His arm shook, charred grotesque black, the skin of his hand peeled off to expose bone, hanging by a bloody thread. He conjured another. And another. And another. The outcome didn't change. The pain was too decentralized and blinding to assess how many bones he'd broken from slamming against the walls of the training chamber over and over again. When he could no longer move his dominant arm, he just switched to the left and kept going. White hot agony and determination flooded his senses, overpowering all outside thought, fixing his mind in the present.

Eventually his body gave out. Eventually he barely had the strength remaining to drag himself to the healing tank, unconsciousness claiming him the instant he hoisted himself inside. The vivid yet familiar nightmares were preferable to tossing and turning in bed, nowhere to run from his own thoughts.

And then he awoke, fully healed, fully nourished, but not fully rested, and got back to work, until the next training session. And so the cycle continued.

If he let himself stop moving long enough to think, he would invariably think about Goku, the mere thought of him a dangerous, obsessive high.

The mere thought of him a precipice overlooking the abyss.

* * *

Frieza's movements were frantic, uncoordinated, and it was no time at all before Goku got the better of him. He lashed out with his tail, but Goku caught it, and slammed him against the ground, jaw cracking on impact, stunned momentarily. Goku seized the opportunity to tighten his grip, and forcibly wrapped his own tail around him, restraining his limbs completely.

"Thought you were the only one who could use your tail, huh?" Goku said with a smirk.

Frieza struggled, tried to wrench his tail free, but it was no use. Goku's grip was too strong. He felt a hand moving between his legs, but the sensation was overpowered by white noise.

He couldn't move.

He couldn't—

_The ground crumbled away, suspending him midair, bound and restrained above an unending field of flowers, no escape, fairies dancing in the corners of his vision, unending torturous melody ringing louder and louder in his—_

"Hey, Frieza?" Goku's voice snapped him back to reality. "You went completely limp there, is everything—"

Frieza gnashed his teeth, ignoring the stab of pain in his jaw, and took advantage of Goku's distraction to free his tail and slam a full-powered kick to his stomach. Goku smashed into the ground several meters away, and Frieza staggered to his feet, glaring, panting, and charged, punching and kicking in a mad flurry. Some connected, but most were readily blocked or dodged.

"Hey, hey, calm down for a sec!" Goku caught his arm, and threw him into a pile of rocks. He felt a rib bruise on impact. "You've been really tense all day. Seriously, what's going on?"

"I'm _fi—"_ Any impact Frieza's words might have had evaporated as he proceeded to vomit up a mouthful of blood, falling to his knees in a quivering, retching, pathetic heap.

Goku powered down. "Uh… maybe we should stop here? You really don't look so good."

"Don't you _dare—"_ Another bloody coughing fit. When he found his voice again, it was hoarse. "Don't you _dare_ patronize me."

"C'mon, don't be like that." Goku crossed his arms. "Isn't the point supposed to be having fun here? Which you're clearly not."

Fun? That didn't sound like the right word. Not for what Frieza was getting out of this.

…Then, what _was_ he getting out of this? This wasn't a battle to the death. He could back out of this arrangement of theirs at any time just by saying he was bored, and yet here he was, week after week, continuing to sleep with his worst enemy for some reason he couldn't even remember anymore. He'd had his fun. He was losing his advantage. He already had plenty of blackmail. He could find another sex partner.

Frieza took a long moment to catch his breath, holding eye contact all the while. Then he picked himself up, wiped the blood from his mouth, and scowled. "If you _must_ know, I've been dealing with widescale rebellion throughout my empire as of late, and it's been grating my nerves. Within the past week I've had to destroy several planets of economic importance. So, yes, I suppose I am a bit tense. What is it to you?"

Goku knitted his brows together with a frown, clearly unsure how to respond. "Oh, uh, that… sucks? Hmm… destroying planets again? Really? And here I'd hoped you'd learned your lesson…"

Frieza narrowed his eyes. "I believe I was quite clear when I said I had no intention of changing my ways. Perhaps you should have thought of that before promising to revive me, or allowing me to return to power. Or _sleeping with me."_

Goku let out an awkward laugh. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

"In fact," Frieza continued, lips curling into a smile, "you could kill me right now. You could rid the universe once again of the scourge of my name. I'm clearly weakened." He flicked his tail. "What's stopping you?"

"I mean, that wouldn't be fair, would it?" Goku scratched his head. "You just came back to life. Plus, if you were dead, I wouldn't get to fight you anymore! And the sex has been fantastic!"

Fair? Nothing about this was fair. The fact that Frieza continued to live by some twist of fate, free to wreak havoc to his heart's content, that wasn't fair. The universe had finally returned to a state of stability after his demise, and now he was back, ready to pick up the pieces and begin his reign of terror anew. He'd killed billions just in the few months since his revival, and his total body count easily numbered somewhere in the hundreds of billions. He failed to see any metric by which this was "fair," for those who concerned themselves with such things. Apparently, it was only fair to Goku because his own personal satisfaction hinged on Frieza being alive, which was… twisted, to say the least. And yes, Goku was a rather twisted person, Frieza knew that well. If he were to threaten an innocent life in front of him, Goku would certainly intervene, but hearing of Frieza's crimes in the abstract barely registered. Yet something about this left Frieza feeling deeply uncomfortable.

Moreover, Goku hadn't answered his question. If this were purely a matter of personal enjoyment, why suggest they stop? Frieza had been weakened, pinned. There was nothing stopping Goku from having his way with him. Why was he so concerned? _What was it to him?_

Why was he _always…?_

_Pathetic._

A sudden, intense wave of dizziness struck him, powerful enough that he needed to take several steps back. He pressed a hand to his face. "I… I think we're done here for the day."

He staggered past Goku, in the direction of his ship, vision fading in and out of focus.

"Sure thing! Get some rest. We'll fight again when you're at full strength!"

The moment he turned his back to Goku, he felt a hand clap his shoulder. Frieza screeched as if shocked by a powerful electric current, and jumped several feet back, face contorted in rage.

 _"What the hell was that?!"_ he yelled, clutching his shoulder.

Goku's hand remained awkwardly half-outstretched. "Huh? I dunno, I was just—"

 _"Don't you dare touch me like that!_ We are not friends. We will _never_ be friends." His tail thrashed, stirring up dirt. "I do not appreciate being callously touched by _anyone,_ least of all by _you._ Neither the events of the Tournament of Power, nor our present sexual relationship, change _anything_ between us. Are we clear?!"

The outburst left Goku visibly taken aback. "Okay, okay, sheesh, uhh… I'm… sorry?"

_Stop._

_Just… stop._

Frieza's head throbbed like it was about to rupture. Suppressing a soft noise of pain, he continued back to his ship, gait unsteady, heart pounding violently in his eardrums.

He just… needed some rest.

It did not come easily.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The second section of this chapter depicts a not-super-graphic but potentially unsettling scene of torture in which children are included among the victims, as well as suicide as a means to end said torture. Feel free to skip this section if you're squeamish, but I _highly_ advise not skipping the chapter altogether.

Frieza was angry.

That wasn't unusual. Anger was his default emotion, suppressed and channeled in a myriad of ways, polished to immaculate steel. But there was anger, the comforting slow boil at the center of his being, and then there was _anger._

He was angry because nothing was going his way. His revenge, his empire, his training, his entire life—no matter what he did, nothing seemed to yield results. He could do nothing but watch everything fall to pieces, powerless against his own traitorous mind. It was just one annoyance after another, building and building into a raging inferno that danced below the surface, threatening to erupt at any moment.

Which it did, when he arrived for what should have been routine negotiation with the viceroy of Sector 87 and suddenly all the doors and windows slammed shut, and malodorous green fog began flooding from the vents. Within seconds the soldiers accompanying Frieza, along with the diplomats representing the viceroy, collapsed to the floor, spasming, retching violently, dead in no time at all. If Frieza's reflexes had been a moment slower, his sixth sense for danger less precisely honed, that would have been him, too. Sturdy as his species was, there were chemical compounds even he wasn't immune to—but it didn't matter if they never entered his body in the first place.

He summoned an energy shield the moment the attack started, and ran the numbers in his head. He could go without breathing for up to two weeks, but he was probably doomed if the toxic mist entered his body through _any_ orifice, and it poured in faster and faster, so dense he couldn't see more than a few centimeters beyond his shield. The building was probably heavily fortified, so a regular energy blast wouldn't suffice to tear his way out, and the barrier combined with poor visibility limited his actions. Slowly, deliberately, he walked forward, until he reached a wall. He placed his hands forward, still safe within his protective bubble. As expected, it was reinforced with katchin, and would be very difficult to break while staying shielded.

But very possible to melt.

Baring his teeth, he dug his nails into the wall with an unpleasant grinding noise, letting the flames of his golden transformation lick his flesh. There could be no mistake. He channeled his ki into his fingertips, sizzling hot, until the metal began to glow, soften, and crack, melting to viscous, molten fluid. He dug deeper, tearing and clawing through the meter-thick walls, channeling more and more heat through his fingertips, the skin of his palms burning away. Fresh air and sunlight flooded in with a hiss, and he ripped the opening wide enough to escape. Then he tore off at maximum speed, shattering the sound barrier, in the direction of the viceroy's estate.

He burst through the doors dramatically. If there had been any doubt as to who was behind the assassination attempt, it was dispelled by the terror that flooded across his gaunt face the moment Frieza made his entrance.

"L-Lord Frieza!" He threw himself to the ground, sweating profusely. "I apologize for my tardiness, I had some personal matters to take care of before—"

"Spare me the groveling. You and I both know exactly why you decided to remain conspicuously absent for our meeting." Frieza cocked his head, expression cold. "Was that technology new? My scouts detected no signs of foul play when they inspected the premises prior to my arrival. Or, perhaps, they were your accomplices from the start? Either way, I'll be having their heads, too."

"I… I have no idea what you—"

Frieza yanked him by the hair, until they were eye-to-eye. _"Don't insult me,"_ he growled. "And don't be so modest, either. It was an impressive ploy! To think you would even throw your own subordinates into the line of fire so I wouldn't suspect anything was amiss! And it must have cost you a fortune to fortify the compound so heavily! Why, it was so impressive that were I in a better mood, I might be willing to let you off with a few missing limbs and a warning!"

"I-I'm so sorry, Lord Frieza! Please, have mercy! I was a fool for thinking I could ever—"

Frieza smashed his fist into his face, hard enough to leave him spitting out bloody shards of teeth, and laughed.

"By all means, keep begging, if that's how you wish to spend your final moments!" He dropped him to the ground, and slammed a kick to his stomach. "But there is nothing you can say or do that will change your fate."

The viceroy stopped talking after that. He screamed wordlessly as Frieza broke his limbs, so viciously that the sites of fracture swelled grotesque purple, edges of bone piercing through skin.

Then Frieza stopped, and placed a finger to his chin, eyes glimmering with all the mild interest of watching a nature documentary. "No, merely killing you here won't do, I'm afraid. This needs to be a public spectacle that none will forget." His lips curled. "By the way, how are your wife and children? _Was_ it a wife? You'll have to forgive my rudeness in assuming—I don't quite remember how your race distinguishes gender."

The viceroy's face twisted into a masterpiece of horror.

Frieza's smile widened.

"By my estimate, your youngest should just be starting school, correct? Surely you weren't stupid enough to make an attempt on my life without relocating your family somewhere safe. Or perhaps you were so assured of your victory that it didn't even occur to you they may be in danger. Not that it matters." He glanced to the side, and locked eyes with a cowering maid whose head poked around the corner. "I'll find them one way or another."

* * *

The maid cracked before Frieza even touched her. The viceroy's family was hidden in a nearby bunker, and she was all too eager to lead Frieza to his prey in exchange for her safety. Which she was granted, along with a position on his staff—she had been so very helpful, and he got the sense she would soon find herself out of a job.

Three children and their mother, and not a decent battle power among them. It was no effort whatsoever to subdue them all and keep them prone through telekinesis, as he flew in search of a crowd worthy of the spectacle he had planned.

And what a spectacle it was.

Frieza didn't say a word, expression placid and disdainful. In situations like this, it was better to let people draw their own conclusions and spread whatever rumors they pleased. All they needed to know was that the viceroy crossed him, and _nobody_ crossed him. He started with the children, from eldest to youngest, forcing the parents to watch, to _listen,_ as he dragged out their deaths as long and horrifically as he could, systematically reducing their bodies to nothing but gore and viscera—but leaving the faces fully intact. Well, mostly. Past a certain point, they didn't need to keep their eyeballs.

Then came the parents. Torturing the mother would be pointless. One look at her empty, tearstained face was all it took for Frieza to know there was no further breaking her. So he offered her a merciful death, releasing his grip with a smile and handing her a jagged shard of glass. She understood his meaning, and slit her own throat without a word of protest.

The viceroy, however, was offered no such kindness.

By the time Frieza was done with him, the sun had set. The stench of blood had attracted flies. It was a struggle to keep the man conscious through the blood loss and mind-breaking agony, but that just meant Frieza needed to get creative. Eventually there was nothing more he could do, so he strangled him to death and tossed his mangled corpse in a heap with the remains of his family. Then he flew off without a word, leaving the crowd in stone-faced horror.

He examined his fingertips with a scowl. He'd be cleaning gore from under his nails for days.

And he was still angry.

* * *

Frieza channeled his anger, every ounce of it in his body, into his fist, and slammed it into Goku's face at full force.

Goku went flying, crashing to the ground, and Frieza didn't move, gasping for breath, fist clenched so hard he felt blood pool around his nails.

"What's the matter?" he asked, grinning madly. "I'm just getting started! Surely you aren't defeated already?!"

Goku grunted in pain, and breathed a chuckle as he struggled to pull himself upright. "Who knows? Maybe I'm just out of it today. Or maybe I felt like mixing it up and letting you take the lead."

Frieza narrowed his eyes, jaw clenched. Was Goku mocking him?

Goku noticed the change in expression, and cracked a cocky smirk. "What, does that piss you off?"

It did.

"Then what are you gonna do about it?"

A switch flipped.

Frieza seethed, eyes blazing, chest heaving. Then he screamed, and charged at full power, energy surging through his body as he slammed into Goku, grasped his neck in his hands, and squeezed.

Goku struggled, enough that Frieza wasn't able to cut off his breathing completely, but he wasn't at full power. Frieza knew full well that if he went too far, Goku could break free at any time.

And that infuriated him.

He seized him with his tail, constricting with all his might, but it wasn't enough to kill. He punched him in the face, hard enough that blood splattered across his fist, but it wasn't enough to break bone. Nothing he did was ever enough. He punched again. And again. And again.

Hands occupied, he tugged down Goku's pants with his foot and straddled his waist, feeling him harden already. Frieza ground against him, and fucked him mercilessly. He wasn't even aroused. He was barely open enough to take in Goku's cock, much less lubricated enough to enjoy it. The friction was painful, shredding his insides, blood trickling down his thigh. He snarled, and fucked harder, faster, unsure if the friction was lessening from arousal or numbness.

Goku was enjoying himself, though—bloodied, gasping for breath, but smile unwavering.

Frieza barely even felt it when Goku came, didn't realize it until he softened. He scowled, and withdrew, grip unyielding, and grabbed his cock between his bloody, sweat-slicked hands.

Goku regained his senses with a yelp. He bucked his hips away, struggling against Frieza's hold. "H-Hey, I'm not—"

Frieza tightened his grip, hard enough that he felt flesh tearing, and Goku let out a sharp cry of pain, struggling harder, until he wrestled back enough control to kick Frieza in the face. With a burst of energy he broke free from his grapple, sending Frieza flying, crashing into the ground.

He stood up, wiped the blood from his mouth, and glared ferociously. "So you were going easy on me."

Goku pulled up his pants. "I was _trying_ to set an enjoyable pace," he said. "Weren't you the one who said that was important?"

That… he did say something like that, didn't he?

"I'm not finished with you."

Breathing a laugh, Goku assumed his battle stance. "Then you're gonna have to catch me again."

Frieza's face contorted in rage as he let out a battle cry, enveloped in golden fire. Goku summoned his energy and went Blue in turn, seamlessly blocking Frieza's barrage—but he was on the defensive. Cocky as he was, he was still coming down from an orgasm, mind hazy and movements sluggish, stamina drained, staggering from the force of Frieza's attacks. It wasn't long at all before Frieza caught him again, grappling him with full force and slamming him to the ground for round two.

Enough time had passed that Goku could get hard, but he was still more tender than usual, gasping and spasming beneath Frieza's touch. Frieza grinned madly, choking and fucking him at full strength, red haze overpowering whatever pain or pleasure he might be feeling. He barely felt his own orgasm. He didn't care. Goku came again. Frieza didn't relent.

Until, finally, Goku stopped moving.

The thought that he might actually be dead snapped Frieza back to his senses, but his chest continued to rise and fall. So, he'd just passed out, then. Pathetic.

Frieza released him and stood up, sobered but feeling a twinge of disappointment. He hadn't quite been finished. With a scoff, he made to leave.

…And then he turned around.

This was it. This was his chance. Goku was unconscious, completely defenseless. How foolish he had been, to become complacent around Frieza, to goad him and then let his guard down! He could end it all, right now, claim the revenge that had eluded him for so many years. Expressionlessly, he raised his hand, finger pointed and glowing as he charged his death beam.

It would be so easy. He could finally realize the dream that had sustained him through Hell.

He could finally kill Goku.

So…

_Why did he hesitate?_

He stood, silent, unmoving, heart pounding in his ears, outstretched finger a thousand miles away.

Then, with a long, heavy exhale, he lowered his hand.

And the moment he did, all the exhaustion he'd been fighting back crashed down on him at once. He collapsed to his knees next to Goku, wringing his face in his hands.

How long had it been since he'd really, truly, had even a moment's rest? He couldn't even remember the last time he'd slept soundly, undisturbed by nightmares, or lay in bed without having to actively fight against his own fractured mind. The moment he stopped moving, all the pain and stress caught up to him. He was tired, so unimaginably tired, and it had been so long since he'd had any rest that he didn't even remember _how_ to rest.

Goku slept peacefully, snoring without a care in the world, and Frieza felt a twinge of envy. Not anger, not hatred. Just envy, and exhaustion.

It had been so, so long since Namek.

It felt like a dream, yet Frieza remembered it vividly. The very moment Son Goku first entered his life. The very moment the tide of battle started to turn. At first, it had been fun. His respect for Goku's strength had been genuine. He had become complacent to the point of boredom, and the feeling of really, truly pushing himself was exciting and novel. Until he was pushed too far. And then further still, into a waking nightmare. Warrior worthy of his respect or not, Goku was still just a lower life form who needed to be put back in his place at any cost. Only then would the nightmare end. Only then would things go back to normal.

But now… now, it had been so long, that this _was_ the new normal.

He couldn't deny that things between them had changed. Even as far back as his first resurrection, receiving the news that Goku had gone on to defeat Majin Buu had shifted his perspective. Goku wasn't just an upstart insect, but a god in the making. He really was something special. But so was Frieza. If Goku could attain the strength of a god, then he could, too. That hatred drove him to heights which he'd never thought himself capable, and he was forced to acknowledge Goku as a legitimate rival rather than mere prey. He didn't like it, but that didn't mean he was blind.

And then came the Tournament of Power. Though his hatred for Goku burned as strongly as ever, he was a businessman, first and foremost. He knew how to swallow his personal feelings and cooperate with people he didn't like when it was in his own best interest. It was a strange situation, though. He'd witnessed Goku break his limits and achieve untold heights firsthand. Against himself, it was infuriating. But as an ally, achieving Ultra Instinct against Jiren, Frieza couldn't help but feel _proud_. He expected no less of Goku. And despite his misgivings, he had never felt more alive than during that final showdown, fighting alongside Goku in perfect sync, abandoning all hatred, all reason, in order to survive.

But that didn't erase what happened on Namek.

There really was something profound about it all, about how deeply they had shaped each other, as if their lives were inextricably bound and woven into a twisted ouroboros. And there was something strangely comfortable in just… acknowledging that. In forgetting the rage, the pain, to simply exist in each other's space. Not fighting, not fucking, not even talking, just… existing. It was peaceful, and peace was something Frieza had not known in a very, very long time.

Sitting together, under the stars of an abandoned planet, it really felt like they were the only two people in the universe. To Frieza, they kind of were.

The problem was that there had only ever been room for one.

And even if he were to kill Goku a thousand times, he would never, ever be rid of him entirely.

Goku twitched in his sleep, and Frieza started, tail recoiling from where it had apparently rested on his leg, and took a few rapid steps back. He breathed a heavy sigh. He was exhausted, and didn't want to try explaining why he was still here if Goku woke up, much less try attacking and risk starting an all-out fight.

He turned, and left, in order to get some sleep.

* * *

Frieza did not get any sleep.

The moment he was alone, a safe distance away from Goku, the magnitude of what just happened crashed down on him.

He hadn't killed Goku.

He hadn't _wanted_ to kill Goku.

Leaving him alive to drag out victory was one thing, yes, but—he had felt no murderous intent whatsoever. It had only occurred to him in passing that he _could_ kill him, but he willfully passed up his chance at revenge.

This was a problem.

The night slipped through his fingers minute by minute, hour by hour. Frieza sat awake, dry heaving, hyperventilating, hands shaking, wracked with physical pain by the intensity of his own heartbeat, in a state of pure, undiluted panic.

Why? Why hadn't he wanted to kill Goku?

If… if he didn't want to kill Goku, what did that mean for him? If he didn't want to kill Goku, then…

_Then what the hell had everything been for?!_


	10. Chapter 10

Frieza sat at the bridge of his flagship, vision blurred, eyes rimmed by dark circles, migraine drumming to the beat of his heart, and watched the sun rise.

He had a personal estate on every planet he owned, shuttling between them as life demanded. There wasn't a single one that felt like "home." Planet Frieza was the capital of his empire, but not his home planet. He had switched the capital shortly after assuming power—partly because it was strategically located and resource-rich, partly because he'd wanted to start distinguishing his rule from Papa's as quickly as possible. Planet Cold had apparently been leveled and rendered uninhabitable at some point during the past two decades, but Frieza felt no sense of loss when he received the news. He'd never felt any attachment to it.

As far as he was concerned, his ship was his home, and his throne. A mere planet, fixed to a single orbit, would not do. Maybe once upon a time he had been content to rule the universe from a stationary perch, but no longer. If he spent too long in one place, on one planet, he would begin to feel like the world was caving in on him.

But there was no stopping that now.

Alcohol helped, sort of. He needed to drink far more than he was comfortable with to find a state approaching stability, mind clouded too heavily to think at all. Even then, it was only temporary. The hangovers left him feeling worse than before, both physically and mentally. Madness seeped into the corners of his mind, accompanied by dread—which drove him madder still. He didn't want to go back to that state of mind. He couldn't. He knew how it always ended for him. He didn't want to go back. He didn't want to lose himself.

He didn't want to die again.

But he could not handle the implications of not killing Goku.

* * *

Life blurred around him.

He couldn't focus on anything—paperwork, meetings, administration. At least commanding his armies to leave none alive required no thinking on his part.

His poker face was only so effective. People took notice, that he wasn't operating at full capacity.

"You really don't look so good, my Lord," said Berryblue. "Perhaps you should get some rest."

If only he could.

"Mind your own business," he snarled.

* * *

Every moment he could, he spent training.

He didn't even care about getting stronger—the excruciating pain that came with pushing himself beyond all conceivable limits was just preferable to the complete mental break looming overhead. His body ran on autopilot as if he were a passive observer, mind blank except for the distant, numbed, comforting throb of pain.

_He didn't want to go back there._

Apparently, he'd been so effective in distracting himself that he lost track of time completely. Goku appeared in the middle of his training regimen, and his mere presence felt like a hand bursting through Frieza's ribcage to squeeze his heart, crashing him down to reality in a crater of dizziness, pain, and nausea.

Goku's eager smile faded to confusion. "Hey, Frieza, what's…?"

Frieza didn't make eye contact. His mouth was so dry it was a struggle to speak. "I'm… not in the mood today."

"Huh? Aww, okay. What's going—?"

_"MIND YOUR OWN DAMN BUSINESS, YOU MISERABLE INSECT!"_

The outburst was punctuated with a ki blast, which Goku deflected—taken aback, but only mildly annoyed.

"Alright, alright, sheesh." He put his fingers to his forehead. "Welp, until next week!"

And then he was gone, and Frieza was left staring at the empty space where he had been, panting, shallow and harsh, vaguely aware of his hands shaking. He fell to his knees, face burning against his palms, and desperately tried to rein in his breathing and heartbeat.

What was…

_What was happening to him?!_

* * *

He needed a distraction.

Though he was in no mood to see Goku, there were other toys at his disposal.

He placed a hand to the mirror. It was the first time he'd reverted to his first form since his previous resurrection, and it felt… strange. A long time ago, this had been the form he was most comfortable with, but it never occurred to him to give it any deeper thought. He took this form to keep his vast power under control, yes, but why? It certainly wasn't for anyone else's benefit. So what benefit did it serve _him_ to default to his smallest and least threatening form, an inconvenience by any conceivable metric?

It wasn't just about suppressing his physical strength. In fact, it may have never been about physical strength to begin with. There had always been something intangible he held back when interacting with the world, from his vantage point distant behind icy layers of polite detachment and absolute control. It was… hard to put to words, but there was one that came to mind.

Fire.

A raging, furious fire that blazed at the center of his being, kindled by all the parts of himself beyond his control. Instinct. Passion. Desire. Anger—so much anger, a deep-seated anger towards all other living things, tempered to stainless sadism. And he suppressed that fire, because if not tended, if not tamed, it threatened to destroy everything around him, including himself. Of course he had feared that fire. Of course he had feared what would happen if he really, truly lost control of himself. And apparently, he had been right to.

But it was hard to fear that fire when his life had already been burned to cinders. Now it protected him, nourished him, burned away everything that threatened to touch him.

Except Goku.

No matter how close he drew, no matter what Frieza did, Goku refused to burn, and that was the most terrifying thing of all. He couldn't control him. He couldn't kill him. He couldn't scare him away. He was powerless to stop him. But then, maybe it made sense that a being born from Frieza's fire, the one for whom it had always blazed brightest, would be immune to immolation.

Because it wasn't only fear of what that fire could do. It was also fear of what it _couldn't_. Holding himself back carried with it the inherent threat of what would happen if that fire was unleashed. And it worked, because back then even just that small fragment of his power had spoken for itself. Back then, he'd built his very identity around his strength, around being the strongest in the universe without even having to try. If he never really put himself forward, if he always kept that distance from the world, ruled it from that untouchably high pedestal, he'd never have to risk falling, to risk failing, to risk crashing to the ground and breaking. And he was so naturally gifted, from the day he was born, that it had worked. Until it hadn't.

But that was a long, long time ago. Now, he was well acquainted with the taste of failure searing his throat. Now, he had been broken for so long that he didn't even remember how it felt to be whole, pieces haphazardly glued together with the dream of vengeance. And taking this form now just left him feeling small and vulnerable.

Like he was wearing another person's skin.

The jarring reminder of how much the years had changed him was dizzying. He didn't want to change. He just wanted it to _stop_.

He pressed down on the mirror to stabilize himself, until it cracked, splitting his reflection in two. He dug his nails deeper, watching his blood trickle down with a cold, disdainful glare. He felt no pain at all.

Eventually he removed his hand, shaking it clean and splattering the glass. He'd have it replaced later.

And so he left, in search of the night's quarry.

* * *

There was never a shortage of aspiring socialites seeking to sleep with people in power to improve their own standing, if you knew where to look. High class bars tended to be teeming with them.

Gender normally didn't register at all for Frieza, but tonight he decided to go with a woman. A non-fighter. Someone as different from Goku as possible.

He didn't remember her name. For all it mattered, she didn't even have a face. Apparently she liked pain.

That would make things easier.

* * *

It felt like he was piloting his body rather than inhabiting it.

He kept his distance, toyed with his prey from afar, learning her rhythm from scratch. Learning how to push her to the extremes of pain and ecstasy, how to make her scream his name, how to bend her to his will. How to break her.

She was very easy to figure out. How boring.

She lay beneath him, open and inviting, let him do as he pleased with no resistance—no challenge—whatsoever. She lay bloodied, moaning, writhing, gasping, begging for more. She seemed to be getting far more enjoyment out of this than he was.

(Why should he have to hold himself back for the sake of a mere insect?)

His vision went red. His hand shot forward to clamp her throat, squeezing, and he fucked her directly, each thrust more furious and bone-breaking than the last. White noise drowned out all pleasure.

He didn't realize she was dead until after he finished, once the red haze dissipated and he returned to his senses. She lay motionless in his grasp, neck twisted at a sickening angle, blood pooling at her mouth. His lip curled in disdain, and he thoughtlessly let her drop to the bed. How disappointing. He always did have a terrible habit of breaking his toys.

He gazed down upon the mess he'd made, and a wave of frustration surged through him. His mind felt like a dam ready to burst, overflowing with dissatisfaction, frenetic energy, and so much anger. It wasn't enough. He needed release.

He needed Goku.

And the moment that thought crossed his mind—

Everything came crashing down.

The panic attack set in immediately. He couldn't run from it any longer. Were there anything in his stomach he would have vomited, and the raw bile burned and strangled him. Wheezing, choking, gasping for breath, he clutched his head in his hands until his nails broke skin, vision distorting, powerless to stop his mind from racing off the cliff of madness.

He hated Goku. He hated everything about him—his face, his voice, his foolish personality, his distinctly Saiyan nature, his soft and naïve heart. But most of all, he hated Goku for making him taste defeat and humiliation, for wresting him from his throne atop the universe and crashing him to the ground below. That was an unforgivable crime that could only be rectified through his death. He hated Goku so intensely that the dream of killing him had sustained him through Hell and worse.

_So why hadn't he wanted to kill him?!_

Why… why did he find himself _needing_ him? Why did he need _anyone_ , for _anything_ , much less Goku?

If he wasn't going to claim revenge, then… then what had been the point of everything he'd been through? Was he supposed to just lie down and accept defeat, to accept Goku as his superior? The mere thought made him angry—an immense, unbearable, agonizing anger that stabbed through his heart, so powerful it made the veins in his wrists ache, building and building with every trauma he endured. But if it wasn't murderous fury, then what—?

And then—

It clicked into place.

The mad, hysterical laughter that erupted from his lungs had a life of its own, as if a ghost had been trapped in his chest for years and finally tore free.

It wasn't hatred for Goku.

It was hatred for _himself_.

He hated himself. He hated himself! He hated how pathetic and weak he'd become, that even his all wasn't enough, that no matter what he did he still lagged behind the Saiyans. He hated how far he'd fallen, that his once grand empire was in pieces and the glue of authority refused to hold. He hated how powerless he was to stop his own mind from tearing itself apart. He hated the sheer fact that he had suffered, was _still_ suffering, and couldn't make it stop. He hated that he had somehow become _dependent_ on Goku, which meant—which meant that all the pain and humiliation had been for nothing!

But most of all, he hated himself because without the thorn of vengeance gnarled in his heart, there was nothing stopping him from acknowledging how much of what happened to him _was his own fault._

How hilarious, that he'd spent all these years seeking vengeance on another, breaking over and over against an insurmountable wall, when the true culprit was himself all along!

He laughed harder, then harder still, choking and hiccupping into a mad frenzy, suffocating him to the point of tears, throat screaming from lack of air, body wracked with spasms of agony from the sheer, overpowering volume of self-hatred that had built over the course of eighteen years and broke through all at once.

Maybe he laughed for hours, or maybe his sense of time had distorted. Eventually, he found no strength left to continue—yet he lay there, quivering, and managed to rasp out a low, dangerous chuckle.

This could not continue.

Nothing had changed. Goku was the one who defeated him, left him in this pathetic state to begin with, held his wounds open to this very day. Everything had fallen apart because he'd become weak, then weaker still, and that meant he needed to cut that weakness out by the root.

It wasn't about revenge, or hatred. He just… he just wanted to live again.

And in order for him to live, Son Goku had to die.


	11. Chapter 11

There could be no mistake.

If Frieza wanted things to go any differently this time, he couldn't just charge recklessly into battle as he'd done in the past. He needed a plan, to make sure that this time, he would win. This time, Goku would die.

Earth. Earth was Goku's weakness. If Frieza attacked Earth, somewhere densely populated, Goku would be distracted trying to prevent collateral damage. That was something Frieza could take advantage of. Since he couldn't hide his power level, he couldn't ambush and destroy the entire planet under everyone's noses. He would have to be precise and efficient in his assault, and he would need a reserve ship in orbit in case the opportunity to destroy Earth arose. It didn't matter if it was a clean victory, so long as Goku died.

Vegeta was a problem. Frankly, Frieza didn't care if Vegeta lived or died, but it would be troublesome if he had to fight both him and Goku at once. Perhaps he, too, could find a fusion partner. Maybe he could revive dear Papa, or look into whether his estranged brother was still alive. But there were a few problems. Firstly, he had no means of performing fusion. Whatever method Goku and Vegeta had used against Broly seemed distinct from the Potara fusion he'd witnessed from the Universe 6 Saiyans, but neither Potara nor this unknown technique were available to him.

Secondly, he couldn't let anyone else peek into his head. Especially not his father or brother. Especially not now. No, this was something he needed to do alone.

But then he remembered—Vegeta _wasn't_ on Earth, was he? If he were, surely he would have crashed his and Goku's little date some months back. Of course, Vegeta could have returned to Earth since then, but it still meant Frieza could find a window when he was absent, and strike.

If he had to guess, he'd say Vegeta was probably off training with Whis and Beerus, as he had been the last time he'd attacked Earth. Back then, he'd been able to hitch a ride onto Goku's Instant Transmission and arrive at once, but if Goku weren't with him, that wouldn't be an option. If he remembered correctly, Whis and Beerus had arrived about thirty minutes after Goku and Vegeta, obviously by some other means of travel. That meant it would take thirty minutes for the reinforcements to arrive.

That meant Frieza would have thirty minutes to finish things once and for all.

He didn't eat. He didn't sleep. He neglected running his empire entirely. He spent every waking moment training, pushing his body beyond all conceivable limits to strengthen himself at any cost, relying solely on healing tanks to keep himself alive.

There could be no mistake. He was confident of his hypothesis, but he needed to be absolutely certain. He sent spies to Earth in order to make sure that Goku was present, and Vegeta was not. If Goku were still hiding their relationship, he would have to be on Earth around when it was time to meet up with Frieza, in order to cover his tracks. And sure enough, his assumption was correct. The window was open.

It was a few hours before their scheduled affair, and it was time to strike.

* * *

Frieza's ship descended.

A looming, foreboding shadow rolled across Central City, attracting a crowd of onlookers as it parted the clouds and landed with a hiss. Frieza stepped out, already Golden, and for a moment wondered if this would really be so easy as destroying the entire planet right here and now.

The thought was short-lived. Goku appeared in an instant, fingers raised to his head, face colored with confusion.

"Huh? Frieza? What are you doing here?"

Frieza regarded him with cold malice. "I'm here to finish this once and for all."

He raised a hand, and summoned his energy, swirling black and purple, burning through his veins.

_"Hakai."_

The ball of energy materialized, and shot forward. Goku sprung out of the way with a gasp of surprise, and it tore past him, into the crowd, with a bang. Those caught directly in the blast were incinerated completely, leaving nothing but a smoking crater. A shame. Frieza would have preferred they left corpses, in order to better demonstrate the point. Not that it mattered. The dust cleared, and with a malevolent smile, he began charging another.

There was no music so sublime as the symphonic screams of a fleeing populace.

With a flash of energy, Goku turned Blue, and charged. Smirking, Frieza blocked his punch, and slammed the ball of energy into his chest, erupting into a furious burst of purple light. Goku gasped, struggled, trapped in a prison of destruction.

And Frieza laughed.

"This certainly brings back memories, doesn't it?!" A wicked grin twisted his features. "Let's see if you've grown any stronger!"

Not that Frieza was going to wait and watch. He was on a time limit. With Goku trapped, there was nothing to stop him from destroying Earth completely. He raised his arms, summoned all of his energy into a massive Supernova, and released it with a yell, aimed directly at Earth's core.

Goku realized his aim immediately. He screamed, channeling his energy, aura crackling with fierce determination and the red of his Kaioken, and broke free. Purple energy dissipated through the air around him. His skin was scorched and his clothes tattered, but he'd taken no major damage. Then he tore through the air, directly into Frieza's attack, intercepting it before it hit the ground, and let out a sharp cry as he launched it into the stratosphere.

He clenched his fists, and turned to Frieza. "That was Hakai energy back there, wasn't it? When did you…?!"

"As you may be able to surmise, I've been training," said Frieza. "And apparently, so have you. I expected no less. But don't think that alone will save you."

Goku glared ferociously. "Seriously, what the hell are you doing?! Stop this right now!"

Frieza responded only by charging another ball of Hakai energy, grin unwavering, and flinging it in the direction of the fleeing crowd. Goku shot forward, into its trajectory, fingertips blazing with energy. He caught the attack, but grunted in pain, struggling against the might of Frieza's new power. Frieza wasted no time and charged another. Still busy with the last one, Goku barely managed to dodge, and it tore through the concrete of a nearby building, collapsing the entire structure into a pile of rubble and corpses.

"What do you think, Son Goku?!" Frieza grinned madly, eyes wide. "If you try to dodge or tap into that Ultra Instinct of yours, you'll leave the people of Earth to their doom! But if you block my attacks head-on, sooner or later, your energy will run out! _Which will it be?!"_

Goku dispelled Frieza's attack with a powerful, energy-laced punch, and for a moment did nothing but glare—a truly furious glare, the likes of which Frieza hadn't seen him wear since Namek. Then he screamed, and charged.

They clashed at full power, Frieza's aura blazing purple with pure destructive energy, potent enough to nullify the force of Goku's attacks. Goku gritted his teeth, but Frieza's smile didn't waver. He seamlessly took the advantage, ending the skirmish with a powerful kick to Goku's stomach. With a gasp of pain, Goku crashed into the ground, coughing.

Frieza immediately began charging another ball of energy.

The crowd had thinned, scattering in all directions, but there were still stragglers. Some injured, some brave enough to record the battle on camera, some lost and disoriented amidst the chaos, some still pouring out of buildings, some trapped in their cars. Frieza launched the attack, and it whizzed through the air past Goku in the direction of a large building, still teeming with fleeing people. Goku took off, chased down the projectile, incinerated it with a Kamehameha, only to be struck squarely in the back with another, trapping him yet again. He screamed, then screamed harder, summoning all the ki in his body and unleashing it at once, dispelling the energy sphere into a burst of mist.

His lip was bleeding. His clothes were tattered further. But his glare was unwavering.

"Leave them out of this!" he yelled. "Your battle is with me!"

Frieza laughed. "In that case, how about this?! I won't harm a single person on this planet, _starting from the moment of your death!"_

He conjured two more balls of energy, one in each hand, and tossed them in different directions—one at Goku, one at a bridge overflowing with traffic. Goku clenched his teeth, squeezed his eyes shut, and charged, screaming, fist glowing with godly ki and shattering Frieza's energy of destruction. He kept charging, right at Frieza, who managed to block but was knocked back on impact, lips twisted into a scowl.

In the distance, Frieza's other attack hit its mark, destroying the bridge and killing everyone on it.

Goku winced from the sound of the explosion, expression pained, but didn't let up the pressure. He pursued, and locked Frieza in a midair flurry of blows. Each attack swirled with the full force of his godly aura, powerful enough to punch through Frieza's destructive shield. They were evenly matched, the force of impact from their clash so great as to crack the earth beneath them, causing shockwave after shockwave.

Frieza ground his teeth together, and began summoning another ball of energy, but was interrupted by Goku yanking his wrist forward, ruining his balance and disrupting the attack. He slammed his fist into Goku's stomach, and made to grab him with his tail, but Goku dodged, weaving behind Frieza and smashing his elbow into his back, sending him crashing to the ground below.

"Kame… hame…"

Frieza reacted immediately, spinning midair, unable to change his trajectory but throwing out his arms and summoning as much Hakai energy as he could, veins burning as he pushed harder and harder, until the sphere grew to the size of his body, large and powerful enough to meet Goku's attack head-on.

_"HA!!!"_

Goku fired, and the beam collided with Frieza's energy of destruction in a furious clash of light, energy crackling through the sky with the intensity of raw lightning. Frieza clenched his teeth so hard it felt his jaw would snap, as he squeezed more and more agonizing energy through his arms, every ounce of rage and determination in his body, struggling against the full force of Goku's Kaioken-powered Kamehameha, black-purple against white-blue, neither giving an inch, until—

The energy exploded, and rebounded, sending them both crashing into painful craters on the ground.

Frieza pulled himself to his feet, struck by the shooting pain of several cracked ribs, and locked eyes with Goku.

"Frieza," said Goku, voice firm, "you can't win this fight. You've gotten a lot stronger, but it takes you too much time and concentration to use your Hakai energy attacks in the heat of battle. So just give it up and leave. You've taken this game too far."

…Game?

Frieza stood still, expression blank.

And then, he began to laugh—a soft, disbelieving, wide-eyed laugh.

That's right.

That's all it was, wasn't it?

That's all it _ever_ was to Goku.

To Frieza, defeating Goku was a matter of life or death. He had tried, these last few months, to set revenge aside and focus on piecing himself back together, but failed. The unsettled score was an open wound, left to bleed and fester so long as Goku still drew breath, growing more agonizing with each passing day. Only with Son Goku dead and the balance of his life restored could that wound heal. Only then could he finally live again.

But to Goku?

Everything. All of it. All the pain, the rage, the fear, the stress, the humiliation, the trauma, the self-loathing, everything that led Frieza to where he was today. All their battles, every crushing defeat Frieza had suffered, his very _existence._

_All of it was just a game._

He continued to laugh, gradually picking up speed and volume to a fever-pitch, gale-force crescendo, cackling like a complete lunatic. Maybe that's exactly what he was.

After what must have been a full three minutes, the laughter subsided.

Fine.

If this was a game, then Frieza was done playing.

He screamed, and charged at Goku full force, shrouded in pulsing energy of destruction. They clashed, just as they had so many times before, fists crashing together in an all-out battle of life and death. Maybe Frieza couldn't conjure Hakai energy in the heat of battle, but it still coursed through his veins, fueling his every attack, that he was able to evenly match Goku's Blue Kaioken in direct combat. He didn't relent, pursued every opening, didn't allow Goku a second to breathe. He slammed Goku to the ground, and sent another ball of Hakai energy screaming after him. Goku landed on his feet and jumped out of the way, and the attack exploded harmlessly into a crater of dust and rubble.

Goku wasted no time, letting out a battle cry as he rushed at Frieza. Aura flared to life as he smashed his fist into Frieza's face. Frieza seethed, lip bleeding, and held his ground, blocking the rest of Goku's onslaught, until he found an opening to go back on the offensive. Goku needed to charge his attacks with more power than usual in order to pierce Frieza's aura, and the Kaioken was draining his stamina already. He could still win this, if Goku burned through his energy reserves before he did—and he'd remedied his own stamina problem long ago.

But could he win before Vegeta arrived? By Frieza's estimate, it must have been at least fifteen minutes already. Though Goku had burned through quite a bit of energy and taken more damage than Frieza had, he was still running hot, matching Frieza's pace, and showed no signs of slowing. At this rate, yes, Frieza might be able to pull a clutch victory, but if Vegeta showed up before Goku was defeated or Earth destroyed, it was all over.

The moment he saw an opening Frieza drew back, flying through the air, Goku hot on his heels as he fired a wide-range barrage of ki blasts, most of which Goku dodged, but all of which caused collateral damage. By now mostly everyone had cleared off, but they couldn't have gone far, and he didn't need Hakai energy to threaten innocent lives. Goku realized his aim, cut him off with Instant Transmission, and fired a pre-charged, point-blank Kamehameha the moment he materialized.

It connected.

It wasn't enough to kill, but it was enough to hurt. A lot. Frieza cried out, reflexively blocking as well as he could, but the full force of Goku's unrelenting attack shredded his guard, and he stumbled back, bathed in blinding, burning light.

The blast cleared. Frieza was scorched from head to toe, blackened, bleeding, panting, furious.

Goku breathed a chuckle. "Heh… you survived it, huh? I wasn't holding anything back. You've really gotten stronger."

Frieza charged, aura crackling dangerously, pain searing through his body and clouding his senses, dulling his movements, flooding him with hate, which he channeled to push himself further. Energy surged through his fingertips, worsening the pain, but that didn't matter. Goku was winded, but level-headed, defense seamless, and it didn't matter how much power Frieza used if his attacks didn't connect to begin with.

Eight minutes left. Frieza grew increasingly frantic, burning through energy faster than Goku, faster than his body could handle, muscles screaming as he pushed and pushed, agony fueling his desperate rage and determination.

He gathered all his energy and launched another attack at Earth's core. Goku flew into its path, struggling against the full force of Frieza's power. Frieza seized the opportunity to summon two more orbs of destructive energy, blazing through his veins and sizzling his skin. The first he launched at Goku, and it sailed through the air, punching through the planet-destroying attack and smashing into Goku before he could react.

The second…

"Goku!"

Frieza recognized that voice.

"Well, well," he said, lips twisting into a cruel smirk. "It appears we have an audience."

And he sent the second ball of energy careening in Krillin's direction.

Goku gasped, and broke free with an intense burst of energy that should have been impossible in his current state, screaming through the air, landing just in time to knock it out of the way. It crashed into a public building, destroying it completely.

It wasn't just Krillin that arrived, but the whole menagerie. Frieza had picked up most of their names in passing by now. Gohan, Piccolo, Tenshinhan, Android 18, and Bulma were all there too—Vegeta notably not among them.

"I told you already," said Goku, voice brimming with cold fury. "Your fight is with _me."_

"Sorry it took us so long to get here," said Gohan. "We saw a bit of the battle on TV, and it looked pretty bad. None of us stand a chance against Frieza alone, so we needed to gather up everyone."

"I called Whis as soon as I heard," said Bulma. "He and Vegeta should be here any minute. Just hang in there a bit longer!"

Goku scratched his head. "That's great to hear, but… why are _you_ here, Bulma?"

Bulma crossed her arms. "Don't think I've forgotten what happened the last time Frieza attacked Earth! Do you really think I'm going to risk letting myself get blown up along with the whole planet if I'm not with you guys?!"

"We brought Senzu Beans, too!" Krillin held out the bag.

Frieza's eyes bulged. _"Don't even dream of it!"_

He fired a volley of death beams, over a wide enough range that Goku could block most, but not all. Krillin dodged, quick enough to escape harm but slow enough that Frieza could read his movements. His next attack hit its bullseye, incinerating the bag of Senzu. He fired another, aiming for the kill, but it crashed against the guard of Android 18, whose glare chilled to the bone. Then Goku's fist slammed into his jaw, knocking him back with a yelp, a safe distance away from the onlookers.

"You're not gonna beat me by threatening my friends," said Goku, voice dangerous but level. "They're not helpless, and when you take your attention off me, you leave yourself wide open. Stop playing dirty, and either fight me, or leave."

Frieza's face contorted in rage, seething, tail thrashing. His time was almost up. He'd lost the advantage.

But he wasn't beaten yet.

His lips twitched into a smirk. He still had one way to hurt Goku.

If this game was over, then he was going to salt the earth.

"Say, Goku," said Frieza, "your friends don't know the full story, do they? About you and me. About _us."_

Goku said nothing, as looks of confusion blossomed on his friends' faces.

Frieza laughed, loud and smug. "It seems he hasn't told you, after all!" He put a hand to his chest dramatically. "So, then, it falls to me to reveal the unsavory truth! I'm sure all of you must be wondering why you sensed my energy on Earth several months ago. Perhaps it seemed to appear out of nowhere, and vanished just as quickly. As if ferried by Instant Transmission. Or, perhaps, you've noticed some odd behavior from our dear Goku. Perhaps that he's been conspicuously absent for a few hours every weekend, or bruised in the days following. Perhaps he's been in an abnormally good mood lately. Perhaps he's been acting as if he's _hiding something."_

The Earthlings and Namekian exchanged glanced amongst themselves, until finally Krillin spoke. "Goku, what's he saying?"

Goku remained silent, but Frieza was all too eager to respond for him. "Let me put it plainly. For the past five months, Goku and I have been regularly sleeping together. Engaging in amorous congress. Committing adultery. Having sex. _Fucking._ Phrase it how you will, the truth remains! Oh, but make no mistake—it was completely consensual. He wanted me. He surrendered to me willingly, spread his legs happily, _begged_ me to have my way with him. I must say, even I was surprised by the voracity of his lust!"

The expressions of confusion morphed to absolute shock. "What the hell?!" Krillin's mouth fell open. "H-He's lying, right?!"

For a moment longer, Goku still said nothing, withering under Frieza's smug gaze and the piercing stares of his friends. Then, finally, he let out a sheepish laugh, and scratched the back of his head. "Aw, busted. What'd you have to go and tell 'em for?"

_"WHAT?!?!"_

Shock turned to horror, anger, and disgust. Krillin balled his fists. "How—how _could_ you?!"

But nobody reacted as strongly as Gohan. He didn't say a word. He merely wilted, lip trembling as if he were about to cry, squeezed his eyes shut, and flew off quietly.

The painful silence that flooded over them was cut mercifully short by an attack from Frieza, who pounced on the lull in Goku’s guard and dragged him back into combat.

Frieza took the offensive, didn't yield, but it didn’t matter. His stamina was low. His arms were burned and numb. Vegeta or no, Goku's other friends were there to back him up in case things went south. Even if they weren't, it would take a miracle for Frieza to claim the kill in the short time remaining. He didn’t care. The hatred that fueled him blinded all sense of reason.

Goku needed to die. Goku needed to die. Goku needed to—

And in a flash of light, Whis and Beerus arrived, Vegeta in tow.

"Vegeta! Whis! You're here!" Bulma ran over to them.

Beerus cocked a brow. "Hello to you too, Bulma."

Bulma put her hands on her hips. "Well, maybe if you had any help to offer, I would have greeted you, too." She paused, and turned to Vegeta, gaze landing on the plastic cup in his grasp. "Uh, what’s…?"

Vegeta flushed. "Whis… checked his staff… saw Kakarot had the situation under control… so Beerus demanded we… stop at Godbucks on the way…"

Indeed, Whis and Beerus each carried matching cups themselves. Everyone stared. Vegeta grumbled under his breath, and angrily sipped his latte, conspicuously failing to hide the domed dollop of whipped cream with his free hand.

Frieza, too, watched the comical display—wide-eyed, bewildered, _furious._

"I… I won't…" His face contorted in rage. _"I WON'T STAND FOR THIS MOCKERY!!!"_

He shouldn't have had the strength to stand, but he stood anyway, shaking, desperate, sky shuddering from the intensity of his aura as he stretched his arms high, destructive energy pooling into a furious maelstrom. Everyone put up their guard, eyes locked on Frieza as he charged his final attack, overflowing with hate and malice and raw power, and then—

It detonated.

Along with Frieza's right arm.

And he let loose a shrill, bloodcurdling scream.

His golden form melted away as he collapsed to the ground, splattered in his own blood and bits of gore, clutching the bloodied stump of his elbow between shivering fingers.

In an instant, all the rage and hatred crumbled away as the world spun and spiraled around him, giving way to a chasm of cold, visceral, bottomless terror.

He was going to die.

He was going to die.

_He was going to—_

Goku released his Kaioken. "You've lost." He shot Frieza a withering glare. "Leave. Now. And don't come back. If you try anything like this again, I'm going to kill you permanently. No more mercy, no more resurrections."

The sound of Goku's voice snapped him back to his senses.

He… he was letting him go.

Of course he was.

Because unlike Frieza, Goku _had_ that luxury—the luxury to just cut Frieza out of his life completely, to toss him aside and move on, like it didn't even matter. Like it was so easy.

_Like he was nothing._

Goku's glare didn't falter. Even if Sorbet were still alive, he wouldn't be able to land another sneak attack, much less destroy the planet. He was completely, totally beaten. Yet another victory under Goku's cap, yet another triumph to celebrate and forget, yet another point to the tally of their "game."

And it meant so little to him that he could just… just…

Frieza stood up, posture swaying, expression vacant, arm stub hanging limply at his side, numbed by the pain in his chest. He let out a hoarse, quiet, shuddering laugh.

"…Why… why…? Why? _Why?_ Why why why why why why why WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHYWHYWHYWHYWHYWHYWHYWHYWHYWHYWHY _WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY?!?!?!?!?! WHY DOES IT ALWAYS END LIKE THIIIIIIIIIS?!?!?!?!?!"_

The force of Frieza's scream cracked apart the ground beneath him.

"Why can't I ever defeat you?! Why can't I win just _one… single… time?!_ Nothing I do is enough to be rid of you, and yet you just— _you just destroy me over and over again and go back to living your stupid, insignificant life_ _LIKE IT'S ABSOLUTELY NOTHING TO YOU!!!_ I've endured pain beyond anything a creature as simple as you could _possibly_ comprehend! I hate you so much it burns, the mere fact that you continue to draw breath an inescapable torment, and yet— _and yet there's NOTHING I CAN DO ABOUT IT!!!_ I could torture you to death _a thousand times, and—AND IT STILL WOULDN'T BE ENOUGH TO REPAY EVERYTHING YOU'VE DONE TO ME!!!!!"_

He laughed again, louder, crazed and choked and sputtering.

"And yet! Somehow! This is worse than _everything else combined!!!_ You've _ruined_ me! You… you _continue_ to ruin me _time and time again in absolutely every way imaginable NO MATTER WHAT I DO!!!!!"_

Gasping, he fell to his knees, supported by his remaining arm, barely managing the strength to crane his neck to meet Goku's eyes.

"S-So, why…"

His voice hitched—

and _broke_.

_"Why…?"_

He stared up at Goku, who said nothing, and his throat burned under the force of his implacable glare. The air fell thick with silence, with words unsaid, filled only by the sound of Frieza's harsh, ragged breathing.

Finally, he shakily picked himself up, and turned around. He limped away, slowly and unsteadily, back in the direction of his ship, tail dragging on the ground behind him.

And then he was gone.

* * *

Vegeta scoffed the moment Frieza's ship departed. "I told you, didn't I? It was only a matter of time before he attacked again."

Nobody spoke, expressions rigid, all eyes on Goku.

"What?" said Vegeta. "What's with the looks on everyone's faces? Kakarot won, didn't he?"

Bulma put her hand on his arm.

"Well, yes, Goku won," she murmured, "but… um. Frieza revealed some… distressing information, before he left."

Vegeta’s face turned grim. "Oh, no. What’s that bastard plotting?"

"Nothing, I think? But, uh. Apparently he and Goku, well… he and Goku were… having an, um. Affair."

A pause. "When… when you say 'affair,' you can't _possibly_ mean…"

"Yes, Vegeta," said Bulma. "A _sexual_ affair."

The silence that followed was long, tense, and immeasurably uncomfortable.

Vegeta opened his mouth several times to speak, but only managed to vocalize the strangled, sputtering noises of a dying engine, face colorfully contorting through all five stages of grief. Finally, he closed his eyes, and let out a slow, steady exhale.

"…Bulma? Hold my latte while I go tear Kakarot a new asshole."

Bulma took his latte.

And he marched over to Goku.

And punched him full in the face.

"What…" he grabbed him by the collar, "the _actual fuck…"_ he yanked him down to scream directly in his face, _"IS WRONG WITH YOU?!?!"_

"You were right, Lord Beerus!" came the ever-amused voice of Whis. "Godbucks was an excellent idea!"

Goku chuckled nervously, holding his hands to his chest in surrender. "H-Hey, listen, I know you don't like the guy, but—"

Vegeta barked out a laugh, coarse and loud. "Well, isn’t that the understatement of the century?! No, Kakarot, I am not exactly fond of the cold-blooded tyrant who subjugated our race, destroyed our home planet, and made me his lapdog. And yet, somehow, that's not even important right now! I've always been astonished by what a terrible husband you are, but _cheating on your wife?! WITH FRIEZA OF ALL PEOPLE?!?!?!_ I never thought even _YOU_ could sink that low!!!"

"Huh? Cheating?" Goku blinked in confusion. "I mean, yeah, we were having sex—" Vegeta’s face twisted into a disgusted grimace, "—but it's not like we were married or starting a family or anything? It was just… sparring with a twist!"

Vegeta’s grimace fell, and in its place rose a look of astonished horror. "You… you really don't—you cannot POSSIBLY be that stupid!" He broke into a fit of disdainful laughter. "Well, let me be the one to break it to you, then! Tell me, did you pay _any_ attention when you got married? Did you actually _read_ your wedding vows? Did you have _any idea_ what it was you were getting into?! Because I can't believe I have to explain this to you, but the whole reason people even _get_ married is the promise of _FIDELITY!_ IN OTHER WORDS, THAT YOU WILL NOT BE HAVING SEX WITH OTHER PEOPLE _FOR ANY REASON!!!"_

Goku's eyes widened. The corners of his lips fell, and he slowly turned to stare at the ground. "…Oh. Ohhhhh. Um. Whoops?"

"That's all you have to say for yourself? _Really?!"_ Vegeta dropped him harshly. "But you know what?! That's not even the worst part of this! Just for a moment, let's set aside the infidelity! Let's set aside how vile and disgusting he is! The simple fact is that you were fraternizing with _Frieza_ , and apparently DID SOMETHING TO PISS HIM OFF ENOUGH _TO MAKE HIM TARGET EARTH AGAIN!!!"_

"Hey, I didn't do anything!" Goku protested. "One minute we were fine, the next—"

 _"HE'S FUCKING FRIEZA!!!"_ Vegeta screamed straight in his face, veins popping. "You could have just _breathed_ wrong in his general direction! And now you've made a _jilted lover_ of him?! Of all the stupid things you have _ever_ done, Kakarot, this is _truly_ the crown jewel atop the summit of idiocy!

"And on top of _all_ that, _YOU LET HIM GO AGAIN!!!_ That makes _three times! FOUR,_ if you count when we were fused! Tell me _why,_ Kakarot. Why do you _always_ keep cutting this villain a break?!" He laughed, and threw out his arms dramatically. _"You know what?!_ Maybe the two of you _should_ just go off and have a big fat wedding already! How about we resurrect _Cell_ as the best man and _Zamasu_ as the maid of honor?! Wouldn't that just be _PERFECT?!?!"_

Vegeta continued laughing, louder and louder, and Goku fell silent, staring at the ground, heart pounding in his ears.

"As… entertaining as that wedding sounds," Whis interjected, "in all fairness, Goku did prevent things from getting out of hand. Of course, there were some civilian casualties, not to mention a fortune in property damage, but since when is that a problem for you Saiyans?" He chortled. "In any case, Frieza did retreat. He was beaten quite badly. I don't think he'll be coming back any time soon."

At that moment, Gohan returned, eyes red but expression firm.

Goku’s heart lurched.

Chi-Chi was with him, too.

She stepped to the ground, a heartbroken, tearful expression blossoming across her face, and made eye contact with her husband.

"Goku… please, _tell me it isn’t true."_


	12. Chapter 12

It had taken Frieza a lot of self-restraint to pick himself up and retreat. If he hadn't lost his arm, if he hadn't been violently snapped out of his rage, he wouldn't have. He would have hurled himself off the same cliff he had twice before, straight back into Hell.

(It had also taken a lot of self-restraint to not look back.)

Yet, somehow, he was still alive. On death's door, caked in his own blood, barely conscious from pain and exhaustion, yes, but—alive, putting one foot in front of the other, dripping a trail of blood, heartbeat rattling his skull, mind a jumble of emotion and instinct with no room for coherent thought. He dragged himself to the ship's control room, and was faced with the struggle of activating autopilot with his remaining, non-dominant arm, no presence of mind for psychic ability, palm slick with sweat and blood, fingers shaking.

Somehow, he managed it. The engine whirred to life, and he kept walking, in the direction of the medical bay, vision blurring as he activated the healing tank. He'd done it so many times that the process was ingrained to muscle memory. His body relaxed as the cool fluid poured in, clouded by blood, and he passed out the moment he stopped moving.

He hated healing tanks. Yet he never seemed able to escape them for long.

He longed for the days when the feeling of being suspended in cold liquid while his skin and bones knitted together wasn't a constant, for the days when he could sleep undisturbed by the nightmares that played and replayed over and over, like a broken record constantly spinning and repeating the same corrupted sequence in the projector of his mind. He could move, but it wasn't recommended. Something about disrupting the healing process. Not that it mattered. He'd just be back in tomorrow to start it all over again, anyway.

But the worst part about healing tanks was that they only healed skin-deep. He had been broken and rebuilt so many times that his body didn't feel like a part of him anymore, and he grew ever more aware of what didn't heal. The deep-set exhaustion, the pounding in his head, the feeling of white noise dulling his senses, seemed to grow worse and worse every time.

The machine beeped softly, signaling that he was done. He stepped out, dripping cold liquid, and examined himself. His right arm was as good as new—a bit sore, tendons aching slightly as he curled and uncurled his fist experimentally, but completely functional.

Yet his head pounded against his skull harder than ever, now accompanied by the feeling of the insides of his chest having been scraped clean out with a rusty utensil. Every heartbeat was intense and painful, as if his veins were being squeezed to paste.

And he felt more tired than ever.

Scowling, he reactivated the healing tank. Obviously the damn thing was broken.

* * *

Goku followed Chi-Chi back to their house, where they could speak in private.

She didn't say a word, didn't once turn to look at him, and the deathly silence was worse than any yelling.

When they arrived, she closed the doors behind them, slowly, deliberately, and finally turned to face him.

"Goku… how _could_ you?"

"…Chi-Chi, I—"

"I don't want to hear it!" The tears brimming in her eyes began to spill. "Do you know that I was faithful to you the entire seven years you were dead?! Plenty of men asked me out. Bulma encouraged me to move on. I didn't know if you'd ever come back, but I stayed loyal, and held out hope. That one day, you would come back home, and I'd be there to welcome you with open arms. That's how we've always been. You'd go off and do your thing, and I'd always be there to be that home when you needed it, no matter what. And you… you just…"

She burst into a fit of sobs. Goku reached to comfort her, but she jerked away from his touch.

He never knew how to deal with Chi-Chi when she was upset, but now he felt more at a loss than ever.

Eventually her sobbing subsided, enough for her to sniffle, wipe away her tears, and face Goku again. "All this time I thought you just weren't interested in sex or romance, and I was willing to accept that. But apparently, all it took was for someone more exciting to come along! I don't even know who this 'Frieza' lady is, but I am _sorry_ I could not give you whatever she did."

Goku scratched the back of his head. "Well, um, Frieza's an evil alien who's trying to kill me, and also a guy… I think? You know, come to think of it, I never actually asked—"

"That's besides the point!" she cried. "Man, woman, genderless alien, it doesn't even matter! What matters is that you went behind my back and… were intimate with someone else?! I thought something funny was going on, but… but _this?!_ You've never been an active or responsible participant in our household. You've always just been off in your own little world, training and fighting and playing, not caring how it affected me or the kids. I got used to it. I've put up with a lot. But I thought you were better than this, Goku. I really did."

Though the sobbing ceased, her tears still flowed relentlessly, eyes flooded with pain. Goku fell completely silent, and stared at his feet. He was used to her getting angry at him, nagging him to do work or chores or spend some time with his family for once. But this was different.

He'd… he'd never meant to hurt her.

"…I'm sorry," he said at last.

Chi-Chi let out a long, slow exhale. "Being sorry doesn't change what you did."

After a long, tense moment of silence, she spoke again, barely audible. "I want you to leave. I… I need some time to myself for a while."

And Goku did, without a word of protest, but not before casting one last glance to see Chi-Chi sitting down on the bed, face in her hands, sobbing softly. A pang of guilt seared through his chest, but he pried himself away, and left quietly.

* * *

Goku found himself at a loss.

It wasn't just Chi-Chi—all his friends were mad at him. He headed to Krillin's place to ask if he could spend the night, but 18 slammed the door in his face. And he wasn't going to brave Vegeta's wrath, much less Bulma's.

There was, however, one person who didn't seem too bothered.

"Dang, Goku! I know Chi-Chi's getting on a bit in years, but I didn't think you had it in you!" Roshi elbowed him in the ribs. "So, who'd you end up bonking?"

Goku rubbed his neck, face twisted to a rictus of discomfort. "Umm… you remember Frieza, right? From the times he invaded Earth, and the Tournament of Power?"

"Huh? The evil alien guy? Well, sure, but what does that have to do with—" Roshi abruptly fell silent, and gave Goku a long, bewildered stare. "Well. No accounting for taste."

"So… do you mind if I stay with you until this all blows over?"

"Well, of course!" Roshi pulled open the door, beckoning inside. "Kame House is always open to its students. Stay as long as you need to get back on your feet! Seriously, though, _Frieza?_ Chi-Chi's a good woman, and you cheated on her with _Frieza?_ What in the world could've possessed you?"

Goku stepped inside, and offered Roshi a grateful, but tired, smile. "It's… it's a long story. I've had a rough day. I'll tell you everything tomorrow."

Roshi clapped him on the back. "I hear you. Why don't you go ahead and sit down? I'll go track down the spare blankets and pillows."

"Yeah… thanks."

Goku collapsed onto the sofa with a deep exhale, arms outstretched, letting the whole weight of his body sink into the cushions. Whis had healed him after the fight in lieu of a Senzu Bean, but the strain of using Kaioken had set in, and his muscles throbbed in pain. There was no cure for that except time.

But that was nothing compared to the overwhelming throb of guilt, or the looming shadow of uncertainty.

What was he supposed to do now?

* * *

Goku twiddled his thumbs, and cast a glance at the quiet bakery's wall clock. 11:24. Bulma had agreed to meet him at eleven. He'd tried calling the other day, but she'd told him this wasn't a subject appropriate to discuss over the phone. Not that he quite understood the difference. Talking was talking, right?

Right on cue, Bulma pushed her way through the glass doors, slightly ruffled, and walked briskly over to the seat across from Goku.

"Sorry I'm late," she said, brushing some loose hair out of her face. "I tried calling, but I got your machine. What's the point in giving you a phone if you never pick up?"

"Wait, really? But I have my phone right…" Goku pulled his phone out of his pocket, and tapped at the start button. It failed to turn on. "Oh. Uh. Dead battery, I guess?"

Bulma clicked her tongue. "You really need to get into the habit of charging it whenever you leave the house." She shook her head. "Anyway, I just got held up looking for the coat I wanted to wear. I know I put it in my closet! I guess I'll have to figure out where it went later."

"Oh, sure thing." Goku paused, then remembered, and grimaced. "…Was it black?"

Bulma stopped dead. "…Goku," she ventured, eyes narrowing, _"what did you do to my coat?"_

He let out an uneasy laugh, sweat pooling down his brow. "Well… remember that time a few months back when everyone suddenly sensed Frieza's ki on earth?"

Her eyed widened. _"You didn't."_

"He was hungry!" Goku protested. "I finished before he did and felt bad for leaving him hanging, so I took him to dinner! He couldn't just go walking around on Earth naked!"

_"SO YOU STOLE MY COAT?!"_

"I was gonna bring it right back! But then we had some problems getting him back home, and he got kinda freaked out, so it slipped our minds! Besides, you have so many clothes and more money than anyone on the planet! What difference does it make?"

"Oh, _screw you, Goku!_ I liked that coat! And now that you've broken up with him, I'll never get it back!" She glowered, and folded her arms. "Anyway, what did you want to talk to me about?"

Goku looked down. "Look, I… I know I messed up. I want to make things right. Not just with Chi-Chi, but everyone else, too. And I didn't know who else to talk to. What can I do?"

Bulma huffed a small sigh. "Vegeta is not going to be happy I agreed to talk to you. And Chi-Chi's been coming to me for emotional support, too, so don't think for a moment I'll betray anything she's told me in confidence." She drummed her fingers on the table. "Have you considered just… doing something nice to show how much you care? Have you ever done anything like that for her?"

"What do you mean?" Goku frowned. "I'm always nice to her! Sure, I might not be around a lot, but of course I care about her!"

"That’s not really what I mean," said Bulma. "Have you ever, once, in the entire time you’ve been married, gone out of your way to do something nice for her, just because you knew it would make her feel happy and loved? _Without_ specifically needing to be told?"

Goku fell silent. He stared down at the table. "I… how am I supposed to know people want me to do things unless they tell me?"

Bulma put a hand to her forehead. "Honestly, you're hopeless. It's not like you need to read her mind or anything. Everyone likes it when someone they love does something nice for them. Maybe buy her something you know she'd like. Or just do some chores for her, give her a break from having to nag you. Oh, this one's a bit advanced, but sex can be a fantastic way to show someone how much you care, too! Whenever Vegeta and I have a fight, he makes it up by going down on me until I can't even remember my own name!" She blinked. "Um, going down on someone means—"

"That's when you get someone off with your mouth, right?"

She stared. "…I don't like the implications of you knowing that, Goku."

His lip twitched to a nervous grin. "Well, Frieza and I—"

"Too much information!" she cried. Then she continued, tone level. "But really, just… spend some time with her. Tell her you love her, or even just thank her for everything she’s done for you and the kids. Hug and kiss her from time to time—I bet she'd love that."

"Again with the kissing?" He folded his hands behind his head. "Seriously, everyone keeps bringing that up! I don't get what the big deal is!"

"See, I don't get that," said Bulma. "How is it that you've been married for over two decades, have two children, and you've never once kissed her? You love Chi-Chi, don't you?"

"Well, of course I do!" Goku exclaimed. "And I love you, and Krillin, and my kids, but nobody’s ever gotten on my case for not kissing you!"

Bulma fell silent. "I… huh. I can't believe I never thought of that." Her expression softened. "You love Chi-Chi, but you're not _in_ love with her, are you? You never were."

"…There's a difference?"

"Yes. There is." She wrung her hands in her lap. "It's different for everyone, but when you're in love with someone, it's… it's like a need. Your heart beats faster. You can't stop thinking about them, to the point where it can be painful. You crave intimacy—not even the sexual kind, but the emotional kind. You want to feel special to that person, and share your heart with them. You want to share your _life_ with them. It's intense, and euphoric. And along with all that comes a desire to, well… kiss. There's science behind it, but that would go over your head. It's just a thing people have an urge to do, to express their feelings for each other. Have you ever felt anything like that, Goku?"

For a moment, Goku didn't reply, absorbing her words. "No," he said eventually. "Never."

She exhaled. "That does explain a lot, actually. You're so out of touch that you didn't even seem to know what kissing _was,_ let alone cheating. I can't believe you and Chi-Chi never talked about this, though. How did the two of you have sex without it coming up?"

"I mean, it just… didn't? She just spread her legs, and—"

Bulma raised a hand. "You know what, I don't wanna know. Are you even _sexually_ attracted to her, though?"

"Uh, I think so?" He scratched his cheek. "It's not like I minded having sex with her. She never pressured me into doing anything I was uncomfortable with. I even kinda liked it! I'd do it again if she wanted to. But I've never gotten 'sex appeal,' or whatever. I've gotten the gist of what other people find attractive, but not why that makes them wanna have sex in the first place, y'know?"

She fixed him a perplexed stare. "You say this, and yet you went out and had an affair."

"Hey, it was his idea!" Goku protested. "I mean, I was the one who suggested we make it a regular thing, but… _you can combine sex and fighting,_ Bulma. How could I say no to that?"

Bulma snickered. "Yeah, okay, that explains a lot, too. I was wondering what in the world you found appealing about _Frieza,_ of all people. So you're not in love with Chi-Chi, and you're not attracted to her. Then why did you marry her?"

"Well, I didn't wanna break that promise I made, even if I didn't understand it at the time," said Goku. "But I really do care about her! I don't mind going along with things I don't totally understand if they make the people I care about happy! If she ever asked me to kiss her, I would have! But you guys can't expect me to just know things without telling me."

"I suppose that's true," said Bulma. "Common knowledge never did apply to you. Well, I can't speak for what Chi-Chi wants, but she did go out of her way to track you down and hold you to that marriage promise. I think she really would appreciate you going out of your way to be romantic with her. The woman apparently has the patience of a saint, and it would go a long way to make her feel appreciated and loved. But you have to understand that she's really hurting right now. I'll put in a good word for you, but you need to give her some space to sort through her feelings."

Goku took a deep breath, long and steady, then nodded. "I understand. Thanks, Bulma."

She smiled. "Hey, what are friends for?"

"Speaking of Chi-Chi being mad at me, though…" He grinned sheepishly. "She kinda locked me out of our bank account. I've been sitting here hungry this whole time. Would you mind, um… buying me some food?"

Bulma's eye twitched. "Never change, Goku."

* * *

Time passed.

Mister Satan took responsibility for calming down the public in the wake of Frieza’s attack on Central City. With about six months left until the Earth Dragon Balls could be used again, they sought the help of the Namekians in order to reverse the damage done. The property damage could be repaired, and some lives restored, but those directly hit by energy of destruction were lost forever—barring, of course, a wish on the Super Dragon Balls, but that was no easy feat.

Goku stayed on Earth. Consensus among his friends was that it would be a bad look to go off and train with Whis or even King Kai until things with Chi-Chi were settled. Vegeta didn't want to spar, either, despite also staying firmly on Earth in case Frieza came back for a round two. Which meant Goku had nothing to do except continue to work his day job, and wait.

He continued living with Roshi, who was a considerably worse cook than Chi-Chi. Every day, the weight of her absence felt heavier than the last. Maybe he really had taken her for granted.

He knew it was selfish, but he was so, so bored. He felt trapped, pressured from all sides, just sitting and waiting for Chi-Chi to make the next move. Idly, he almost considered trying to pick things back up with Frieza. Almost. That would unquestionably make things worse, and they hadn't exactly parted on good terms. At least it would be something to do, though.

Until, finally, late one night, there was a knock at the door.

"Goku, could you get that for me, please?" asked Roshi.

And he did.

"Chi-Chi…!"

Chi-Chi wore a serious, composed expression, as if she'd spent a long time standing outside the door to steel herself. When she spoke, she made full, unwavering eye contact. "Goku. I want a divorce."

Her voice was firm, but quiet. Goku's eyes widened, as the weight of her words sank in.

"Look, I… I know that you didn't fully understand that what you were doing was wrong," she said. "But it still _was_ wrong. You still picked someone else over me, and you still lied to me. I asked you if anything was going on, and you _lied_ to me, Goku! Even if I'm able to forgive you, I don’t think I can go back to being your unconditionally devoted and waiting wife."

She smiled sadly. "Back when we were kids, people called me crazy for putting so much stock in that silly marriage proposal, you know? But I believed in you, and I loved you. I always did, and I always will. But I…" Her voice caught in her throat. "I don't think I can get past this."

Goku’s face fell. "…I'm sorry."

"I know you are. That’s why—this is so hard, I—" she sniffled. "But this… kind of brought to light a problem that was already there. I'm tired of the arguing. I'm tired of having to force you to be a part of this family when it seems like all you care about is training and fighting. And I put up with it, because I love you, and that's what love is, right? But I'm done waiting around for you to become something you're not. I know you love me and the kids, but it's never been about the family to you. It's just been about doing what _you_ want. That's just the kind of person you are, and I don't think we're getting past that."

A long, painful silence filled the air between them, and Goku stood, trapped under the unyielding intensity of her gaze. There was no anger in her eyes, swimming with emotion, but he knew with a pang in his heart that there was no changing her mind.

He spoke slowly. "Is there… anything I can do for you?"

Chi-Chi closed her eyes, lip quivering, and exhaled. "That's something we'll work out with the lawyers, I suppose. Goten's been affected really badly by this, though. Maybe you could come visit him, let him know that no matter how things turn out between us, you're still his dad and you'll still be there for him. He's out with Trunks right now, but… you're always welcome to visit. Just don’t expect things to go back to the way they used to be."

And with that, she turned, and left.

Goku stood in the doorway, gazing after her, long after she had disappeared from view, feeling as if the ground were crumbling away beneath him. Finally, he shut the door, and went back inside, staring at the ground with a sorrowful expression.

"I… may have overheard some of that," said Roshi. "I'm sorry, Goku."

Goku didn’t make eye contact. "I… what am I supposed to do now?"

Roshi gave him a comforting pat on the back. "Hey, it's not the end of the world! There are more fish in the ocean! And there's always a chance she'll take you back in the future! But right now, the best thing to do is to set aside your own feelings for a while, and just do whatever you can to keep supporting her and Goten, no matter what."

A moment of silence passed. Then, Goku raised his chin, faced Roshi, and nodded. "Alright," he said. "I'll do what I can."


	13. Chapter 13

For the first time following a defeat by Goku, rage was not at the forefront of Frieza's mind.

Of course he was angry. He was always angry. But it was a subdued anger, a tired anger, a once raging flame depleted to a weak cinder. The close brush with death back on Earth had been a wakeup call, a much-needed reminder of why he was fighting so hard in the first place. Because the real goal wasn't revenge. The real goal was to live.

And he didn't know how anymore.

If he continued pursuing revenge, if he made one more serious attempt at Goku's life, he would die. Permanently, this time—he knew this in the primal way that skin knows to recoil from open flame. But there was no erasing what happened on Namek. Yes, he wanted to live, but in order to live he needed to heal, to finally be free. And he couldn't be free as long as the problem of Son Goku remained unresolved.

_So why hadn’t he—?_

Life continued. It always did, no matter how stubbornly Frieza stood fast against the current.

To the best of his ability, he returned to running his empire. But the people who surrounded him were ravenous and power-hungry, and they could smell his blood in the water. If for whatever reason the once great Lord Frieza was weakened, then that was a golden opportunity to make their bids for what was his.

That was the idea, anyway. Perhaps he was uncharacteristically passive and pliable as of late, but when that damn fish-faced mogul tried to springboard himself into heading a conference, talking back and taking the stage, a death beam to the chest was all the reminder anyone needed that even a weakened Frieza was still Frieza.

Still, that didn't stop them from trying. All would-be assassins were still very rattled by the horrific fate of Sector 87's viceroy, but Frieza still had more mundane problems to contend with. Such as the ongoing struggle to reclaim his old borders, or the mysteriously disappearing funds from his treasury. Not to mention all the paperwork he'd neglected these past weeks.

Gossip was a problem, too. For all the strength of his social presence, Frieza was a notoriously private person. He didn't even have household attendants or personal staff. Not anymore. Of course people wondered about what he did behind closed doors, why he was acting so strange. And combined with the existing speculation about where exactly he had been disappearing every weekend, their abrupt end along with his change in mood… the conclusion was obvious, and unflattering.

"You know, my Lord," said Berryblue, "I never thought the day would come when I would see you distraught over what I can only assume was a very, _very_ bad breakup."

Frieza didn't bother turning to face her. "Berryblue, given our history, I have always been more lenient with you than anyone else under my command. But if you push this matter, I _will_ kill you."

It was not an empty threat, but his words lacked fire. Nevertheless, she took it in stride, and didn't mention it again.

He was more exhausted than ever, yet neither his wounds nor racing mind allowed him any rest.

He closed his eyes, and saw Goku's face.

_Pathetic._

Another reminder of how powerless he was. Another reminder that he was falling to pieces—had been in pieces for years already, forcibly held together through sheer will. But now he was lost, and that will was beginning to fail.

And the feeling he'd recently identified as self-hatred grew stronger every passing day he remained unable to make it stop.

At least alcohol made falling apart less painful, even if it sped up the process.

* * *

Another nightmare.

Gasping, gripping his forehead, flexing his limbs to remind himself that they were still intact, Frieza cracked an eye open to check the time. He'd only managed to sleep for two hours. Typical.

He groaned, and pulled himself into a seated position off the edge of the bed, forcing himself to take deep, steady breaths. His heart slammed against the walls of his chest, and his brain burned against the back of his eyes. Exhausted or no, there was no getting back to sleep.

He stood up, hand pressed to his head to quell the dizziness, and it occurred to him that he hadn't eaten anything in over two days. His progress in being able to stomach solids had been completely undone by his training frenzy, and his body had long given up on alerting him when he was hungry. Vaguely aware that he should probably at least fix himself a protein shake, he instead grabbed the painkillers from his bedside and headed to the pantry, tail dragging on the floor, to get a drink.

And when he flipped on the light—

"GUH—!"

"Oh, good morning, Frieza," said Whis, who for some reason was in Frieza's personal estate, at four in the morning, sitting at his dining table and eating his food, nonchalant as ever. He tilted his head. "You know, painkillers and alcohol are a dangerous combination. I'd hate to see one of Universe 7’s strongest warriors drop dead from drug misuse, of all things."

Frieza gawked, simultaneously too tired to deal with this but also startled into sobriety. He… didn’t know that, actually. He gingerly set down the pill bottle. Not that he would offer Whis the satisfaction of a thank you.

He narrowed his eyes. "Why are you here."

"To congratulate you, of course!" Whis's demeanor flipped jovial unnaturally fast. "You made quite the splash back on Earth. It's incredibly rare for a mortal to learn how to wield Hakai energy without specifically being taught by an angel or God of Destruction. I knew I was right to keep an eye on you! Tell me, how would you feel about becoming my pupil, and successor to Lord Beerus?"

That was over a month ago. Why was Whis only paying him a visit now?

Frieza thrashed his tail. "A tempting offer, but—and I mean full offense by this—you are perhaps the single most aggravating individual I have ever met. If forced to live the rest of my life in your constant presence, sooner or later, I would Hakai _myself."_

Whis made a dramatic motion to brush aside a tear that was obviously not there. "You truly are the cruelest in the universe, Frieza." He chuckled airily. "Well, in that case, I’ll have to ask that you refrain from using your new technique for wanton murder. It disrupts the cosmic balance, you see. We only have one God of Destruction per universe, so we can’t have you assuming that role for Universe 7 without the express permission of Lord Beerus. That said, word of your little stunt will probably get out, so don't be surprised if gods from other universes start showing up on your doorstep with job offers. Oh, but if you find _me_ irritating, I'd suggest you stay well away from Universe 11. You wouldn’t last a day with Marcarita! I doubt it'll be a problem, seeing as how Lord Belmod already has a successor, but nevertheless."

That was a lot of words. Frieza's head still spun from shock and fatigue, but he couldn't help feel struck by a sudden, deep fear of this "Marcarita" creature who apparently put Whis to shame. "I'll… keep that in mind."

Whis frowned. "You really don't look so good. Is this about Goku?"

Frieza’s face contorted dramatically. _"EXCUSE ME?!"_

"Well, last time I saw you, you’d been beaten quite badly." Another chuckle—Frieza felt his eye twitch. "And dumped, on top of that! I can't imagine that was pleasant."

"I was NOT dum—" Frieza trailed off. "…Wait a moment, you didn't arrive until after I broke the news of our affair. How much do you…?"

Whis put a finger to his chin. "Hmm… I think… just about everything!" He took a bite of meatloaf, and continued speaking as he chewed. "I've been watching the entire time!"

"The… the entire…?"

Whis swallowed, lips parting to a wide, coy smile. "The _entire_ time."

Frieza stared, slack-jawed, at Whis, who had cheerily confessed to voyeurism as if it were passing wind in an elevator. He doubtlessly knew exactly how frowned upon this pastime was, but was just having too good a time to care. Not that either Frieza or Goku were sexually shy in the slightest, but _still._

Whis continued. "I must say, it was absolutely riveting! You don't find drama like that on television! It was also, you understand, quite the volatile situation. I had a feeling things would go south sooner or later. So, yes, I did need to keep an eye on you two. Though, I certainly didn't put my money on things falling apart because you, of all people, got emotionally compromised!"

"Wha— _I am NOT 'emotionally compromised'!"_ Frieza shrieked.

His voice echoed through the silence that followed. Whis didn't reply. Instead, he leveled him a deeply judgmental, withering stare, the kind of stare that said "are you fucking kidding me" louder than words possibly could. Frieza, to his credit, was… at least self-aware enough to realize exactly how that sounded the moment he said it. He looked off to the side, a bead of sweat rolling down his face, and cleared his throat.

Eventually, Whis broke the silence. "…Anyway, there's just one thing I'm not understanding. You and Goku had a surprisingly stable and mutually enjoyable arrangement. What sparked your sudden murderous outburst?"

Though Frieza was decidedly in no mood to take questions, threatening Whis would accomplish nothing except making him laugh. "I'm under no obligation to answer you."

Whis let out a small sigh. "Sorry, but that’s not the answer I'm looking for. Believe it or not, I'm actually trying to help you. You refuse to open up to anyone, and threaten whoever tries to reach out to you. You do nothing but ruminate on your feelings and work yourself into a stubborn frenzy. If I don't intervene, sooner or later you're going to do something self-destructively stupid again and it _will_ kill you for good this time. And we can't have that, now, can we? You're a God of Destruction candidate!"

Frieza fell silent under the weight of his words, hanging heavy in the air. As much as he wanted to tell the obnoxious angel to shut up and piss off, loathe as he was to accept help from _anyone,_ he… couldn't deny it. He knew full well his life was spiraling out of control, into a vortex dragging him once again to the depths of Hell. He wanted nothing more than to make it stop, and here he was, being offered a lifeline. Skeptical as he was, the only thing he had to lose from hearing Whis out was his pride, which was already in irreparable tatters.

Not to mention, he got the distinct impression that Whis was not going anywhere until Frieza told him what he wanted to hear.

He pressed his hand to his face, and let out a long, deep exhale.

Whis's expression softened. "Why don't you sit down?"

As irritating as it was to be offered a seat in his own damn house, he obliged. He sat down, in the dining chair across from Whis, and let his body sink into the cushioned surface, tail curling around the underside.

"So, let me ask again," said Whis. "What brought on your attempt to kill Goku?"

"What brought— _what brought on my attempt to kill Goku?!"_ Frieza barked out a scornful laugh, craning his neck to make eye contact. "Perhaps our relationship was unconventional, but I believe I was quite clear that we remained enemies. I achieved a new level of power, and made another attempt at revenge. I tried to kill him because I want him _dead._ Why is this of any surprise whatsoever?"

Whis frowned. "But you had already passed up a golden opportunity to kill him, didn't you?"

Frieza's heart dropped to his stomach.

He took a deep, shuddering breath, and concealed the treacherous emotion in his eyes behind a cold glower. "So you _were_ watching the entire time."

"Perhaps we should take a step back." Whis set his hands on top of the table. "Why didn't you kill Goku that night?"

He said nothing.

Even if he knew what to say, his mouth was too dry to speak. His heart pounded, deafening, as the world caved in around him.

Why didn't he… _why didnt he…?_

The sound of Whis's voice snapped him back to the real world. "Oh. Oh, wow, you're… you're not in denial. You genuinely don't know." He set his mouth into a straight line. "Well. I suppose you don't have any frame of reference for this type of feeling, and you're too emotionally underdeveloped to interpret the physiological signals, so perhaps it shouldn't be all that surprising, but… hm. This is going to be harder than I thought."

"You know, I don't appreciate you speaking about me as if I am not sitting right here." Frieza smacked his tail against the table. "What are you even on about?"

Whis smiled. "I'll let you work it out for yourself at a pace you're comfortable with. Honestly, Frieza, you are without a doubt the single biggest disaster of a person I have ever met, in all my years, and trust me when I say that is no small accomplishment—"

Frieza scowled. _"Thanks."_

"—but you _are_ still a person, no matter how hard you may try to convince yourself and everyone around you otherwise." He clasped his hands. "Have you considered the possibility that you didn't want to kill Goku simply because you enjoyed your relationship?"

That… he couldn't deny that. The sex was _very_ good, certainly better than he'd been able to get anywhere else—and Whis was probably well aware of that already, the damn pervert. But the idea that he would pick a fun time over killing Goku was absurd.

"And so what if I did? That doesn't change what happened on Namek. Perhaps I redoubled my efforts to kill him precisely because I didn't like how familiar we were becoming. We will never merely reconcile our differences. The very idea of becoming yet another addition to his merry band of foes turned allies makes me want to vomit." He narrowed his eyes. "Perhaps I wanted to rectify that immediately."

Whis gave him a flat stare. "…Let me see if I'm understanding you correctly. You tried to kill Goku because… because you _didn't_ want to kill Goku?"

Frieza's mouth shot open to protest, but the words died on his tongue. After a moment, he closed it again, crossed his arms, and cast a glare off to the side. "Well, when you put it like that, it just sounds stupid," he muttered.

"Yes. Yes, it does." Whis paused. "So, why attack Earth? The way I see it, you boxed yourself into a no-win situation. Either you win and kill Goku, which we have already established that you are conflicted about for an as of yet unknown reason, or you lose. And quite frankly, you were very lucky to only get dumped. You could have died. Permanently. Honestly, what did you think he would do if you threatened his friends and family?"

Once again, Frieza fell silent. He stared down at his hands. He didn't have an answer to that—at least, not one he felt comfortable vocalizing to Whis. Why did he have to go and lay everything out so calmly and rationally, leaving Frieza nowhere to hide?

"Tell me, Frieza. What is it that you want?"

Frieza fixed him a scowl. "You said you were trying to help me. I don't suppose if I say, 'to kill Goku,' you would do the deed for me?"

Whis chuckled warmly. "No, unfortunately not. I'm only here to provide guidance."

He expected as much. "What I _want_ ," he said, "is to truly, permanently scrub my life clean of any trace of Son Goku. As if he had never been born at all."

"I’m sorry to say, that’s not possible either," said Whis. "Even if you were to change the past to prevent his birth, you would only create a branching timeline. The Goku you know would still live, and you that exists here and now would be completely unaffected. Oh, and don’t take that as a suggestion. Meddling with time is forbidden to the point where _I_ would have to get involved if you tried anything that drastic. It’s just as you said. There is no undoing Namek, or the events that followed."

He knew that. He did. But…

Frieza’s voice came quiet. "I want my life back."

"But you _are_ alive, Frieza." Whis gave him a soft smile. "Maybe it's not everything you want it to be, but this is the life you're stuck with. It's up to you to decide what you're going to do with it.

"So, I'll ask again. What is it that you want?"

Silence flooded the room. Whis didn't interrupt, or even continue eating. He just watched, intently, patiently, waiting for Frieza to come to an answer.

He wanted to live—he knew that, but that was a non-answer. Living while his wounds continued to fester was easier said than done. Maybe new skin had grown, but Goku was a shard of shrapnel lodged in his chest, killing him slowly. Revenge was the easy answer. Hitting the problem until it went away was a comfortable strategy, but there were only so many times he could fail before being forced to realize a different approach was in order.

Because the true goal wasn't revenge. It never was. For all his hatred, Frieza was a selfish creature, and what he wanted above all else was to live. Revenge was merely a means to that end. Maybe it had sustained him through Hell, but it had also sent him there twice to begin with. As fervently as he longed to destroy that agonizing shard, there was determined and then there was suicidal. As much as he wanted Goku dead—

_Then why hadn't he killed him?_

—he would _not_ fall again.

But how was he supposed to live with himself if he surrendered? Was he supposed to just let Goku get away with everything he'd done to him? Was he just supposed to accept that he would always be inferior, broken, haunted by his memories? Impossible. Unthinkable. It wasn't mere stubbornness. No matter what he did, there was no escape, no respite, no peace. The only scrap of peace he'd managed to find these past eighteen years was—

Oh.

So that was the answer Whis wanted.

It wasn't as definitive a solution as revenge, but it wouldn't send him to his death, nor was it the same as giving up entirely. It was… it was at least _something._

As irritating as it was to play straight into Whis's hands, as painful as it was to admit…

Frieza breathed a heavy, defeated sigh. "I want to return to the relationship Goku and I had before I attacked Earth."

Whis looked absolutely ecstatic—so ecstatic, in fact, that he started clapping. "Hooray! You've made a tremendous breakthrough here today, Frieza! Truly, I couldn't be more proud."

Frieza bared his teeth. "Okay, fine, but what good does acknowledging this do me?! If anything, I just feel _worse!_ You said it yourself. There's no changing what happened, and Goku was quite clear about being very much done with me."

Whis tilted his head. "Hmm… well, why don't we go ask him?"

"What are y—?!"

Faster than Frieza could process, Whis flashed across the table to grab his wrist, grip inescapable, and the next thing he knew he was being dragged, literally kicking and screaming, through a vortex of space.

* * *

With a rush of air, the vortex came to a halt, and the pair was back on solid ground. Before Frieza even had a chance to take in his surroundings—

"Oh, Goku!" said Whis, singsong. "Frieza has something he wants to say to you!"

Frieza's entire body bristled in the manner of a hissing, spitting cat. "NO I DON'T!"

Whis put his free hand on his hip, and looked at him as if scolding a misbehaving child. _"Frieza?"_

Silence. Frieza looked around. They stood in a small, modest house, presumably coastal from the sound of waves and taste of salt in the air, the light of Earth's singular, yellow sun shining through the windows. Staring at them, bewildered, was Goku—just the sight of him made Frieza's heart lurch—along with a bearded man whose name Frieza vaguely recalled to be Roshi, and a literal turtle, sitting at the dining table like a full member of the household.

He wrenched his hand away, Whis's grip loosened. "Fine."

"I… think we'd better give 'em some privacy," said Roshi. "C'mon, Turtle."

He and… Turtle (the turtle’s name was Turtle? Really?) proceeded to excuse themselves from the table, disappearing up a nearby flight of stairs.

Frieza cleared his throat. "I imagine you're… less than enthused to see me."

Goku narrowed his eyes. "Yeah. You could say that." He stood up. "You attacked Earth, murdered innocent people, and tried to kill my friends."

"…First of all, this isn't even the first time I've done that, why is this only a deal breaker _now—"_

 _"And,"_ Goku pressed, "because of you, my wife left me and all my friends are mad at me! Don't act like you weren't taking advantage of me, Frieza. You knew what we were doing was wrong and went along with it just to hurt me!"

"Yes. Yes, I did." Frieza crossed his arms, returning Goku's glare. _"Because I hate you._ Has it somehow escaped your notice all this time that _I am not a good person?!_ So, please, forgive me if I am less than sympathetic when you put your hand into the mouth of a lion and complain about being bitten."

"Okay, fine, but even for you, that was low."

"Don't pretend you're nothing but an innocent victim here, Goku," said Frieza. "Perhaps I took advantage of your naivete for our first encounter, but our continued affair was wholly your idea. If you were completely unaware that what we were doing would be frowned upon, you wouldn't have kept it secret in the first place. I certainly never asked you to do so."

Goku frowned. "Maybe you're right, but that doesn't make anything you did okay! Why'd you even go and attack Earth all of a sudden, anyway?!"

 _"Again. Because I hate you."_ Frieza put a hand to his head. "Look, we're… we're getting off topic here. What I wanted to say, was… I… I don’t like that I'm not a permanent fixture of your life."

"What… what does that even _mean?!"_

"Oh, _of course you wouldn’t understand!"_

"No, I don't!" Goku crossed his arms. "I don't get why you attacked Earth out of nowhere. I don't get why you're here now. And on top of that, I don't get why you're blaming _me._ You're the one who took things too far, and you have the nerve to get upset with me because I'm done cutting you more slack than you EVER deserved?!"

_"THAT'S NOT THE REASON I WAS UPSET!"_

Frieza's voice echoed throughout the room, and Goku remained silent, staring, until it subsided.

"Well?" he said. "Why, then?"

And just like that, all eyes bored into Frieza. All were silent, waiting for him to explain himself, and it occurred to him that he had backed himself into a corner. For a long moment he stood, staring at the ground, sweating, mouth dry, tail flicking back and forth, heart pounding in his ears.

"Well, um." He didn't look up. "You see. You see, I. I was… I was upset because… because I… I still… still want… you. Around. It, um. It wasn't just a… game. To me. Anymore."

Silence.

Goku's voice was barely audible. "…Huh?"

More silence.

Frieza continued. "T-To the point where I… may be willing to make some… ah, minor concessions." He paused. "Such as… not targeting Earth, or… your friends and family… ever again."

Still no response.

Frieza eventually worked up the courage to meet Goku's eyes. He was staring, wide-eyed but soft, mouth agape, arms hanging at his sides, truly shaken by this revelation.

Finally, Goku closed his eyes, exhaled, and scratched the back of his head, cheeks parting to a grin. "Well… alright, then! No harm in seeing you again if you're not gonna threaten Earth or my friends. And I guess I am single now…"

Frieza’s jaw dropped. "You… JUST LIKE THAT?!"

Goku frowned. "Now you're not making any sense at all. You just said you wanted to keep seeing me, and now you're mad I said yes?"

Frieza sputtered. "No, I mean—well, yes, but… I tried to destroy Earth _last month_. I could be lying to make you lower your guard! How is it that you're able to trust me?!"

_How is it that you're… able to forgive me?_

"Because I know you well enough to know that you wouldn't swallow your pride like this unless you were dead serious," said Goku. "I'm fine with what we had going on before, but I'm not going back on what I said if you break your word. No more second chances."

Frieza looked away. He didn't like that Goku could read him like this.

"I don't think I'll ever understand you," he murmured.

Goku put a hand to his chin. "Hmmm… I'm not married anymore, but Vegeta's still not gonna like it if I keep seeing you. Well, whatever. I'm sure he'll come around if it means you're not gonna attack Earth anymore. But wait, if you actually wanted me around, why _did_ you attack Earth out of the blue like that?"

Because he was scared. Because he was desperate. Because he didn't know how to live without the flame of vengeance that had kept him alive through years of torment. Because he didn't know how else to make the pain and confusion stop. Because he didn't know what he wanted. He still didn't. But whatever he wanted, it wasn't what had happened.

"…Uh," he finally managed. "…F-Foreplay?"

The silence that followed was filled only by an undignified snort from Whis, but by the time they turned he was just sipping a glass of wine that definitely was not there before.

"…Wow," said Goku. "And I thought I was bad at foreplay. That was _terrible."_

"Yes, I…" Frieza cleared his throat, sweat rolling down his brow. "I am aware of that now."

Another wave of uncomfortable silence fell. Frieza closed his eyes, and exhaled deeply. Though a crushing weight had been lifted from his chest, the bones it had broken weren't mended, and exhaustion flooded over him.

He turned to Whis. "Would you please take me home now?"

Whis tilted his head. "Hmm… not quite yet. There's one more thing you have to say."

Frieza seethed, but relented. "I'm… sorry for… trying to blow up your planet," he grumbled, not making eye contact.

Goku gave him a thumbs up. "Hey, as long as you don't do it again!"

_Why…_

Whis clapped. "Wonderful, Frieza! I'm glad we could conclude this tale with a happy ending."

Frieza certainly didn't feel happy. He wordlessly placed his hand on Whis's wrist, still staring at the ground.

Before they disappeared, Goku spoke. "Seeya around, Frieza!"

Yes, he supposed they would be seeing each other again.

But he had no energy left to respond.


	14. Chapter 14

Life didn't return to normal, but it stabilized.

The divorce was quick and painless. Chi-Chi obtained full legal custody of Goten, but Goku was allowed full visitation rights. The finances were a bit more complicated. Goku was completely on board with paying child support, but he didn't think it was fair to split their assets fifty-fifty. Chi-Chi had a child to look after, and he didn't need that much money to keep himself afloat (when he said this, Chi-Chi seemed on the verge of tears). He only took a small percentage as a starting deposit for his own, brand new bank account.

And that was that. From there, he just needed to sign some documents, and he was no longer married.

Strangely, it didn't really change all that much, except that Goku felt… freer. He still worked to support her and Goten, he still visited, but he was under less pressure. Apart from the monthly payments, he was able to spend his money and go off training as he pleased, without the looming threat of Chi-Chi's wrath. She remained standoffish, but the nagging ceased, and she could only give him the cold shoulder for so long. In other words, they were getting along better than they ever had while married.

Chi-Chi took steps to move on with life, too. Though she would always be a stay-at-home mom first and foremost, Goten was old enough to be self-sufficient now, and not having to care for Goku left her with a lot more free time on her hands. So she opened an online shop, selling hand-made household goods, and began expanding her social circle. She and Bulma had always been friends, but the emotional support Bulma provided during the divorce gave them a chance to truly bond—not just as socially adjacent wives and mothers, but as people.

In other words, Chi-Chi could take care of herself. It was bittersweet, and Goku still missed her cooking, but maybe it was for the best. Frankly, he was more concerned with trying to win back Vegeta. It had taken quite a while for Vegeta to even be able to look at him without outright gagging, but a Saiyan was a Saiyan, and there was only so long he could go without a good spar.

But there was still one loose end that needed to be tied.

* * *

The conversation with Whis and subsequent confrontation with Goku somehow left Frieza feeling even worse.

He still couldn't eat or sleep well, felt more physically ill and lethargic than usual, and was still drinking far more than usual. As it turned out, having your suppressed emotions forcibly stirred to the surface was a draining, stressful experience. Certainly one that left him in no mood for sex, much to Goku’s disappointment, which… raised the question of what the point was in getting back together in the first place.

The storm in his mind raged harder than ever. He wanted to keep seeing Goku. He didn't want to keep seeing Goku. He wanted Goku dead. He didn't want Goku dead. He wanted to heal. He didn't want to heal. The feeling of not knowing what he wanted was unfamiliar and terrifying, exposing him to the elements, skin scrubbed away, shield of bottomless rage in tatters of confusion, left to watch as the vultures circled overhead.

It had been a long time since he'd spent more than a week on a single planet. But here he was, lying in bed, staring at the ceiling. This had become a new favorite pastime of his, to the point where he had issued an official statement declaring that he would be taking sick leave. Berryblue would be running things while he was out of commission, and everyone was to answer to her as if she were him—and she would be keeping a list of those who didn't.

He hated it. He hated appearing fallible, vulnerable, like… like he was an ordinary person with flaws and weaknesses.

But there was nothing he could do about that at this point. He'd be back on his feet soon enough. He just… needed some time to rest and process everything, as best as he could. He needed some time to himself.

Which was interrupted when Goku appeared right out of nowhere, in the middle of his room, fingers to his head.

Frieza yelped, and snapped into a defensive position. "Would you NOT do that unscheduled, out of the blue?!" he yelled, clutching his chest.

Goku rubbed the back of his neck with a sheepish laugh. "Sorry, I… don't exactly have any other way of getting in touch with you. Unless I go bother King Kai, but I don't think he likes it when I use him as a phone." His expression turned serious. "Can we talk?"

For a moment, Frieza said nothing. Then he exhaled, and lay back down, staring at the ceiling. "Fine. What is it that you want?"

"I came to say I'm sorry."

Aghast, Frieza pulled himself to his elbows, just enough to make eye contact. "What—what could you possibly have to be sorry about?"

"Well, obviously something is bothering you!" said Goku, hands on hips.

Frieza turned away, and closed his eyes. "I told you not to concern yourself with me."

"Yeah, but obviously this is about what happened between us, so I think it does concern me."

 _Ugh._ He hated that Goku could read him so well. He just wanted him _gone_ —except, no, apparently he didn't. That was the problem.

Goku continued. "Y'see, I feel bad because… well, because I never realized you actually, um… cared. I thought it was just a game that got out of hand!"

Frieza stared at him. _"That's_ what you're sorry about?"

Why? It wasn't as if he had even been fully aware of it himself, much less ever wanted Goku to know. He would have taken it to the grave, had it not been literally forced out of him. Even now, acknowledging it felt like swallowing glass.

"Hey, I've spent enough time with Vegeta to know that just because someone doesn't wanna show they care, it doesn't mean they don't! I just…" Goku sighed. "I didn't expect it from you."

_That makes two of us._

"And I definitely didn't expect you to get your feelings hurt!" He grinned, scratching at his cheek. "Sure, attacking Earth wasn't okay, but, um. I didn’t mean to do that. Sorry."

Frieza shot upright, squawking in protest, but couldn't find any words to argue. That _had_ been what happened, hadn't it? But _why did Goku have to put it like that?!_ As if he didn’t already feel pathetic enough.

He flopped back onto the bed, dejected. Why did Goku even care? It was just as he said. Frieza had attacked Earth, and here Goku was, fretting himself over hurt feelings? He squeezed his eyes shut. Why did Goku _always_ … _?_

Goku broke the silence. "Anyway. I'm… not really sure what to do in this situation. But I miss what we had going on, too, and I wanna fix things. Hmm, what was it that Bulma said she and Vegeta do after a fight…? Oh, right!" He let out a nervous chuckle, cheeks tinged pink. "I know you said no mouth stuff, but I promise I won't bite."

Frieza blinked, then sat up, interest very much piqued.

As much as he still wasn't particularly in the mood for sex right now… Goku down on his knees begging for forgiveness was a thrilling idea, indeed.

With a light chortle, his lips parted to a smile. "Oh, very well. If you insist on servicing me so kindly, I suppose I can't say no."

He leaned back, supporting himself on one elbow, and raised a knee, placing his free hand just between the curve of his hips. "Try not to damage the furniture." His tail flicked invitingly. "We do like to get rough."

Goku grinned, and eagerly dropped to his knees between Frieza's legs. "Alright! Lemme see, what do I…?"

"Right here." Frieza lowered his hand, middle finger teasing open the seam-like fold of protective skin. "Put your tongue where my finger is, and leave nothing unexplored."

"'Kay." He gingerly positioned his hands on Frieza's hips, hair tickling his thighs as he drew closer. Then he gave him an apprehensive lick, as if he were trying a dubious foreign flavor of ice cream. It wasn't very impressive.

Frieza clicked his tongue. "You're going to have to try harder than _that_ to please me."

Goku chuckled, breath warm against his skin. "Sorry, sorry, alright."

Steadying his grip, he lowered his head, and pressed his tongue to the small opening. He cast an upward glance at Frieza. When Frieza gave him a nod, Goku pushed his tongue in, nudging him open, delving far enough to give his warm, tender skin a proper, pleasurable lick. Goku paused, and licked again, more deliberately this time. Then he withdrew, smacking his lips together.

"Huh," he said. "I don't know what I was expecting, but you actually taste kinda good."

Frieza sighed. "Coming from quite literally anyone else, I suppose that would be erotic." He slammed his foot on Goku's head and shoved him back down between his thighs, smacking him with his tail. "NO BITING."

Another chuckle, hot against Frieza's slickening skin, and a shiver ghosted up his spine. Goku easily slipped his tongue back inside and continued exploring. He gently prodded the edges of retracting skin, saliva mixing with Frieza's heightening arousal until he was fully exposed, warm and wet and wanting. Goku licked him again, broad, strong, full-tongued, firm against his tender entrance and nub. Frieza shuddered, pleasure sizzling within his abdomen, and lay back, letting his breathing grow labored and his lips curl to a satisfied smile.

"Yes…" he exhaled, and clutched the scarlet sheets. "Just… like that…"

He felt Goku smile against him, and he continued, delving into the flushed, exposed, tender recesses of skin, lapping and kneading with his warm tongue as Frieza clenched beneath him. His tail flicked erratically, chest heaving. Goku was new at this, that much was true, but he knew how to read Frieza, his rhythm and signals, how his body shuddered and pulse quickened to the right touch, and every muscle screamed _yes_. Emboldened, he prodded his entrance and thrust his tongue fully inside. Frieza gasped, legs snapping shut.

"Ow— _hey!"_ Goku cried, rubbing his cheeks. "What was that for?!"

"Involuntary motion…" Frieza panted, gripping harder. "Lots of nerves… in the area… protect your head with your shoulders… _keep going …"_

"Ohhh, gotcha!"

Goku knelt down and pushed his tongue back inside, swirling it around to taste the building viscous arousal. He continued lapping, fully coating Frieza in slick and saliva, and the mere heat of his breath stole a shuddering gasp from Frieza's lips. His muscles clenched, as Goku plunged further, gripping his thighs, probing his walls, far enough back to press his lips to Frieza's skin, the coil of pleasure growing tighter and tighter. Goku's tongue glanced across his core, and Frieza let out an undignified, impassioned cry, back arching, toes curling, tail thrashing, thighs clamping uselessly against Goku's shoulders as the intimate heat rose to an unbearable boil.

"AH… _a-ah_ … ngh…"

He clenched his teeth, trying to maintain some semblance of composure, of _control,_ only to have it torn to shreds as another wave of ecstasy crashed against his senses, crumbling his defenses, until the sound of his own heartbeat grew deafening.

_Why…?_

Nothing about this was new. This wasn't the first time anyone had gone down on him. The first time in this form, yes, but it wasn't an unfamiliar pleasure. Goku was a quick learner, but he was no master. Frieza had lain with him before. He knew what to expect. He knew well how Goku's skin felt against his own. But Goku was eager to learn, and eager to please, hands strong but gentle against his trembling thighs, lips pressed tenderly to his entrance as if in caress, as if in a _kiss,_ and it… it was too much.

Goku flicked his tongue against Frieza's innermost wall, and began rubbing. The boil turned to a blaze, igniting the air, as Goku pressed harder, massaging and kneading, sucking gently, steadfast against his spasming muscles.

"G _…_ Go… ku… _nngh…!"_

Frieza desperately bit down to stop himself from crying out, but to no avail. Sweat pooled down his brow, and he squeezed his eyes shut, flushed, trembling, powerless against the overwhelming deluge, fully at Goku's mercy.

Why… why was this affecting him so intensely, on a level beyond physical? Why was the mere feeling of breath against his skin, the soft brush of hair against his thighs, the drum of Goku's pulse against his own, enough to tear him to pieces, wresting away control of his own body?

Why was it enough to reduce him to such a desperate, pathetic state, panting, gasping, quivering, writhing, aching, _needing?_

Why was he rendered more helpless by pleasure than by any torture he'd endured?

Goku swiped his tongue upward, and began sucking tenderly at his throbbing, hypersensitive nub.

 _"AH! H…hah…_ har… der… _ngh…_ plea… se… _please…"_

Why was he the one—

Every muscle in his body seized at once.

_blinding white shock, body hitting the ground in pieces, the rumbling and mocking cackle of the dying planet below, pain, pain beyond all comprehension, world spinning, heart shrieking, can't move, can't even scream, it's cold, so so cold, i'm going to die, i don't want to die it hurts so much i'm so scared, please don't kill me please help me i'll do anything i'm so scared i beg you please have mercy i don't want to die PLEASE I DON'T WANT TO DIE IT HURTS SO MUCH PLEASE HELP ME I'M SO SCARED I DON'T WANT TO DIE I BEG YOU PLEASE HAVE MERCY PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASE **PLEASE** _

"PLEASE… _**STOP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"**_

The force of his scream spiraled to red.

It was happening all over again. He'd been wrenched back in time directly to the worst moment of his life. He started hyperventilating, so hard it felt his lungs would tear right through his chest, heart battering the walls of his ribcage. He could make out the distant, distorted sound of Goku's voice, and visceral rage surged through him, he felt a hand move to clamp his wrist and he violently jerked away, punching Goku at full force, scrabbling away, as far as he could, until he was _safe—_

"—za? Frieza? H-Hey, is everything okay?"

The inside of his room faded back into focus. The physical pain subsided. But he remained frozen, back pressed to the far corner of the bed, wide-eyed and furious, hyperventilating through bared teeth, tail curled to a protective ball, quivering in rage and fear like a frenzied, terrified animal ready to tear to shreds any who approached.

And Goku was still there, bruised where Frieza had struck him, hand half-outstretched—

_YOU MUST DIE BY MY HAND!!!_

—eyes shimmering with worry.

"Frieza? What's… what's wrong? Did I… mess up? This is my first time doing anything like this… I didn't mean to hurt you. I'm sorry. Can you… hear me? Please… say something…"

_Why…?_

_Why is it that no matter what I do to you, no matter what I tell you, no matter what kind of person I am, time and time again… you… you always…?_

Frieza took a deep, shuddering breath, desperately trying to force his body into equilibrium. He was back in the present, but the rush of pain and fear hadn't faded. His mind was still racing, his vision was still distorted, his breathing still came ragged, his jaw still ached from how tightly he'd clenched it, and his heart still tried to pound right through his chest.

And Goku was still there.

Every muscle in Frieza's body, every neuron in his brain, screamed at him to run, or to fight tooth and nail until one of them was dead—regardless that it would certainly be himself. But the world was coming back into focus. This wasn't Namek, but Goku was still there, still offering his hand. And despite it all, despite _everything,_ there was another feeling, lingering just at the edge of Frieza's awareness.

He felt… safe.

It made no sense. Goku was the one who destroyed him, whose face haunted his nightmares, whom he hated above all else. And yet, seeing him now, seeing those familiar eyes shining with genuine concern for him… the dissonance was dizzying. Goku wasn't trying to hurt him here, he knew that fully, but there was a difference between knowing and trusting, and it flooded over him, anchoring him to reality.

It was… it was enough to destroy him all over again.

Silence hung heavy in the air, filled only by the sound of Frieza's breathing, as he held Goku's gaze. The gravity he felt was familiar. It was the feeling of standing at a crossroads—the feeling that whatever action he took would echo throughout the rest of his life.

Goku watched, and waited, as Frieza sifted through the rage and pain that had ruled his life for eighteen years to figure out what it was he wanted.

And then, at long last, he grabbed Goku by the collar—

—pulled him forward—

—and pressed their lips together.

(And for the first time, he tasted of neither alcohol nor blood.)

Goku let out a muffled noise of surprise, but then, leaned in to kiss back, and in that moment a volcano of unidentified but _extremely_ positive emotion erupted in Frieza's chest, surging throughout his entire being. He grasped Goku's face and kissed harder, winding his tail around his waist to pull him closer, down to the bed until not an inch of space remained between them. Goku's kiss was clumsy—his hands fumbled, and his teeth clacked against Frieza's, but Frieza couldn't care less. The confusion soon passed. He pulled Frieza into a heartfelt embrace, and he melted into Goku's arms, having never known the mere feeling of skin against his own could burn hotter than any flame.

They broke apart, lingering, breath mingling and pulsing electric in the air between them. Then with a desperate shudder Frieza pulled him in again, even deeper than before. He pushed his lips apart to tangle their tongues, to breathe the air in his lungs as if he'd been drowning all his life and finally broken the surface, tasting oxygen for the first time and gasping it down like his life depended on it. Perhaps it did. He closed his eyes, and savored it. No presence of mind remained, only the feeling of a screaming, aching _need_ —a need Frieza hadn't even known existed, being filled deep within his shriveled, blackened husk of a soul.

He kissed Goku again. And again. And again.

Each successive kiss was fiercer, hungrier than the last, emotional and physical desire blended as one. Frieza laced his fingers through Goku's hair, ran his hands along the dip of shoulder and collarbone, tore off his top to devour his body heat fully, to feel his heartbeat directly against his own, grasping at every bare inch of skin he could until the heat grew dizzying. He wrapped his legs around Goku's hips, grinding against him to relieve the building pressure, gasping against his lips—until he could take no more.

Frieza broke away, and opened his eyes, gazing up at Goku—flustered, disoriented, but not dissatisfied. He smiled, and leaned in to whisper in his ear. _"Get back to work."_

It took Goku a moment to process the request, but then, he grinned. "Got it!"

He knelt down, positioned his head between Frieza's legs, and got back to work.

They quickly picked up where they'd left off. Frieza was already aroused and exposed, still slick from earlier, and more wanting than ever. Just the first touch of Goku's tongue was almost enough to send him over the edge, and he lay back, shuddering, gasping, moaning, climaxing in no time at all.

But he wasn't done. When Goku made to withdraw, Frieza pulled him back with his tail. "Keep going…"

Goku grunted in agreement, and continued, suckling and lapping, delving in deeper, in and out and everywhere. The ecstasy was overwhelming, more intense than any pain or pleasure Frieza had ever felt, wave after wave, orgasm after orgasm. Euphoria sang through his veins as Goku pleasured him—not as a subject groveling before his master, but as one living being to another, as a partner and equal who knew him inside and out and… _cared_ about him, for some reason Frieza couldn't even fathom. It was unfamiliar, too much to process or question, and he hadn't the presence of mind to try. All he could do was lie back, and let himself be swept away.

And for the first time in Frieza's life, the feeling of losing control brought relief rather than pain. Once again, Goku was the one who broke him, yet never stopped offering to help pick up the pieces and put them back together again. It was ridiculous, it was humiliating, it was incomprehensible, but—even _he_ could only hold out for so long, breaking and breaking, over and over, increasingly desperate for respite, before at long last accepting Goku’s hand, even if just for one night.

Just for one night, he could forget everything else, and Goku's name could be a prayer rather than rancid bile on his lips.

Maybe he could live with that, after all.

Another orgasm crashed over him, back-arching and rapturous. "M-More…"

Goku kept going, and Frieza cried out, gripping at his hair like a lifeline and grinding against him as hard as he could, knees shaking, unconcerned with the indignity of his whining or the passion of his screaming. He couldn't control his body at all. He didn't even care. Another orgasm. It still wasn't enough.

"Fingers… inside… _please…"_

Immediately he felt the broad girth of Goku's fingers against his twitching, needing entrance. They slipped inside effortlessly, skin cool against the heat of his arousal, and he let out a cry, his entire body shuddering beneath Goku's touch. Mouth pressed to his nub, Goku worked his fingers inside of him, prodding and massaging, thrusting in and out, in rhythm with the quickening, intensifying spasms of Frieza’s muscles.

Another orgasm. _"MORE…!"_

And another.

And another.

And another. Frieza didn’t even bother keeping count, but it had to be well over twenty.

And he still wasn't done.

He didn't know how much time passed, but it had barely been dusk when Goku arrived, and now the sun was long set. Frieza was barely conscious, barely moving except for the weakened autonomic twitching of muscles, eyes unfocused, senses overloaded until he couldn't feel, mind overloaded until he couldn't think, ecstasy turned to delirium. Yet he lay there, hoarsely demanding more, with his last vestiges of energy.

Eventually, Goku withdrew. "Yeah, okay, I think we need to stop."

_"M… mo… re…"_

"Frieza, it's been hours. You're obviously about to pass out. I'm tired too, and my mouth hurts." He wiped his chin, dripping with fluids, and grinned weakly. "I'm… glad you enjoyed it, though? Let's talk more once you've had a chance to rest!"

He moved to use Instant Transmission, but was interrupted by the quiet sound of Frieza's voice.

"S-Stay…"

"…Huh?" Goku lowered his hand, blinking in surprise. "And do what?"

"Stay… _stay."_

He wasn't lucid enough to question himself. He just… needed Goku's presence.

He couldn't handle being left alone right now. He just couldn't.

Hesitantly, Goku sat down on the bed, and Frieza set his full weight against him, gravitating to his body heat like a moth to flame. Goku flinched in surprise, but then leaned into his touch. He pulled himself up onto the bed, took off his shoes, and lay down with a yawn. Frieza didn't budge. As soon as Goku settled, he curled around him tighter.

Only then did he allow his body to give out, enveloped by warmth, and sleep to claim him.

* * *

Frieza awoke the next morning, groggy, head ringing, but… mentally refreshed, for once.

He found himself curled on top of a snoring Goku in a tangle of limbs, cheek pressed to his chest, tail coiled loosely around the back of his neck, Goku's arm slung around his shoulder. He shrugged it off instinctively, more sharply than necessary. Goku stirred beneath him, and Frieza pulled himself into a seated position off the edge of the bed, wringing his face in his hands. The weight of Goku's gaze bored into the back of his skull.

His memories of the previous night were hazy, but he remembered enough. He remembered the intensity. He remembered breaking. He remembered surrendering. He remembered the kiss, the heat seared into him permanently like a brand of fire, and could still feel the aftershock of raw emotion. It was… a lot to process. Truthfully, he wasn't sure what had happened, what had overcome him.

But he knew that things would never be the same between them.

For a long time, the only sound that filled the room was the rustling of Frieza's tail flicking back and forth across the sheets as he tried to gather himself.

Until, finally, he spoke.

"Why did you spare my life?"

"…Huh?"

"Back on Namek, all those years ago. But also, the first time I was revived. And then again, when I recently attacked Earth." He turned to face him. "I want to know why."

Goku held his gaze evenly. Then, he exhaled. "I spared your life back on Namek because you asked me to. There's no deeper meaning to it than that."

"But, you were so angry back then, I—" Frieza’s voice caught in his throat. "I wiped out the Namekians, killed your friend, tried to kill your son, tried to kill _you._ You tried to quit, but I forced you to keep fighting. I've slaughtered thousands who begged me for mercy—thousands who hadn't even personally crossed me. I'm not so conceited as to think for a moment that I deserved your mercy. Even back then, you must have known it wouldn’t be enough to make me change my ways, that sparing me would just result in further death and destruction. And yet… you spared me anyway."

"You're right. You didn't deserve it. But…" Goku balled his fists in the sheets. "I saw how scared you were. I saw how much pain you were in. I just… I can't stand by while people are suffering like that. Not if there's anything I can do about it. And that includes you."

Pain stabbed through Frieza's chest. _"Why?"_

Goku shrugged. "That's just the kind of person I am."

"And what about the second time?" Frieza pressed. "After I'd already squandered your first gesture of mercy?"

"Hey, I meant what I said back then! If you weren't so evil, you'd make a great rival! Or, at least… if you stopped trying to kill us all and calmed down for a sec." He grinned. "It was a blast fighting you again! I thought for sure you wouldn’t waste your second chance at life like that, and you'd come back for a rematch. And I mean, I was sorta right, but… I got cocky. I didn't count on you having any tricks up your sleeve. That was my bad."

Frieza scoffed. Not that it made a difference, in the end. "And the third time?"

"The third time…" Goku breathed a deep, deliberate sigh. "The third time I spared your life, because, well… because I like you."

All the heat in Frieza's body shot straight to his face. _"WHAT—?!"_

Goku laughed. "I mean, I don't like that you're evil! Sure, a lot of my friends used to be pretty evil, and some of 'em still kinda are! I dunno though, it's different with you. But I like fighting you! You're more than a rival, Frieza. No matter how many strong guys I meet, you'll always be my greatest foe. Can’t get that kinda excitement anywhere else!"

Frieza let out a loud, uncomfortable laugh in turn, looking very pointedly off to the side. "Oh! Yes! Of course that's what you meant!" He cleared his throat, strangely touched by Goku's words all the same.

"But also, I just… really, really didn't want to kill you." Goku offered him a weary smile. "I guess after everything we've been through together, I've gotten pretty attached."

Another moment of silence settled over them. Frieza closed his eyes, and exhaled. "…You're a fool."

"Hey, now, don't go acting like you're any different!"

Frieza's lip twitched to a pained half-smile. He averted his gaze. "And so here we are, at the end of this long road. Nothing but a pair of hopeless fools."

"So… we're cool?"

That was… a loaded question. Frieza looked down, and took some time to formulate his answer.

"As far as continuing our prior relations as scheduled, yes. But as for the rest…" His mouth went dry. "Goku, I admit that things have become… complicated, between us. But there's no erasing the events of Namek, or the years that came after. I don't think I'm capable of truly forgiving you, or forgetting what I endured, for as long as I live."

Goku gave him a solemn nod. He didn't apologize. That was fine. Frieza neither wanted nor expected it. It wasn't as if he could blame him. Admittedly, the entirety of his relationship with Goku had been one thing he'd thought impossible after another. But the thought of completely abandoning his grudge, of giving up on revenge entirely and just accepting what had happened to him, was… genuinely frightening.

Maybe he had dug his own grave. But that didn't mean it was any less traumatic to be buried alive.

And perhaps he never would forgive Goku for defeating and humiliating him, for dragging him from his pedestal. Nevertheless, he felt as if a knot that had churned his insides for eighteen years was finally free.

"That aside, about last night…" Frieza cleared his throat. "Please forget anything, ah. Undignified, you may have seen. I was very tired, and lacked possession of my full mental faculties. Nothing like… that… is to become a mainstay between us, is that clear?!"

Goku chuckled. "Gotcha, gotcha! Fine by me! I don't think I have another night like that in me, either."

"Moreover, Earth may be off limits, but you Saiyans are still fair game."

He wasn’t giving up that easily. He would surpass and defeat Goku one day. But if there was one thing Frieza had learned over the years, it was that killing Son Goku was easier said than done.

…And maybe he could live with that.

"Wouldn't want it any other way!"

"And no cheating on _me,_ now, do you understand?!" Frieza thrashed his tail. He’d never given a damn about monogamy before, but if for whatever reason he had to be stuck with Goku, then Goku had to be stuck with _him,_ too. "Or else, I'll…"

He trailed off. Or else, what? What could he possibly threaten Goku with?

"Or else, I'll… be… very upset with you," he grumbled. Saying it like that just made him feel raw and exposed. He really didn’t like this "trust" thing.

Goku laughed awkwardly, sweat forming along his brow. "Yeah, I got it now. I promise, no more cheating."

Frieza gave his tail a satisfied flick. _"Good."_

* * *

After an intense round of sparring, Goku and Vegeta separated for a fifteen-minute break. Vegeta popped a Senzu Bean into his mouth, toweled himself clean, and cast a glance over at Goku, who was… checking his phone?

"Kakarot, what are you doing?"

He didn't look up. "Checkin' my phone."

No shit. "No, but—since when do you ever actually use that thing?!" Was he typing? Was he _smiling?_ "Are you… talking to someone? Who the hell…?"

Goku stopped dead, and a very conspicuous bead of sweat rolled down the side of his face. "Uhh… Android 17?"

_"Don't lie, Kakarot!"_

Goku grimaced, then let out a hesitant, nervous laugh. "So, I, um… kind of patched things up with Frieza."

"YOU WHAT?!"

"And he told me to get Space Discord, so I didn't have to keep Instant Transmission-ing into his personal space whenever I had something to say."

"WHY DID YOU PATCH THINGS UP WITH FRIEZA?!" Vegeta yelled, inches away from Goku's face. "HAVE YOU ALREADY FORGOTTEN WHAT HAPPENED THE LAST TIME YOU MEDDLED WITH HIM?!"

Goku held out his hands. "Hey, c'mon, Vegeta, it's different this time! He's not gonna target Earth anymore! I mean, he's still gonna try to kill you and me, but…"

Vegeta narrowed his eyes. "Okay, first of all, telling me that Frieza is going to try and kill me does _not_ make me feel any better. Second of all, WHY DO YOU BELIEVE HIM FOR A MOMENT?!"

"I'm telling you, he was serious! Besides, I told him no more second chances if he goes back on his word."

"HE SHOULD NEVER HAVE HAD ANY SECOND CHANCES TO BEGIN WITH!"

Goku grinned awkwardly. "Too late?"

Vegeta's face twisted into a scowl. There was something weird about this, though. As much of an idiot as Kakarot was, he wasn't stupid enough to take Frieza's word at face value. Moreover, Frieza was famous for never letting go of a grudge. He'd never just "patch things up" with anyone, much less Kakarot.

…And on top of that, he'd added him on _Space Discord?_

"You're not budging on this, are you?"

"Nope!"

Vegeta groaned, burying his face in his hands. "Kakarot, you are the source of all my headaches."

"Hey, don't act like you're not excited to fight him again, too! He's really gotten stronger!"

Damn it. He was right. Vegeta gritted his teeth.

"I have no idea what's going on between the two of you," he muttered, "and frankly I don't want to know. But this is still Frieza. Do you truly believe he's serious about not going after Earth again? You know full well what kind of person he is."

"Yup!"

Vegeta stared at him in bewilderment. Clearly, he knew Frieza better than Vegeta himself did. Between this and the Tournament of Power… what the hell had Kakarot _done_ to Frieza?

…Well. He did know one thing he'd apparently done to Frieza. He shuddered at the mental image. Seriously, that was just gross.

"Ugh, fine," he said at last, crossing his arms. "But don't think for a moment that I'm keeping this a secret from everyone else. If this blows up in your face again, we all have a right to know exactly what happened. And I _will_ hold you to your promise about killing him permanently if he causes any more trouble."

Goku gave him a thumbs up. "No problem!"

"Also, fusion is off limits, do you understand?! That’s _our_ thing!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! I'll type up a short epilogue oneshot soon-ish, and possibly more follow-ups in the future, but for now I need a break. Please don't be shy to comment with any thoughts or questions you may have! ❤️
> 
> P.S.: [The Space Discord conversation in question.](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/675558648616845313/770204155032633354/unknown.png) (Yes, Goku uses light mode.)


End file.
